


Bell, Book and Candle Spell

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After waiting for years to find their better half, All the Novaks are Witches, Bad Guys being Bad Guys, Castiel Loves Cats, Castiel Needs a Hug, Cats, Chance Meetings, Charlie Bradbury is a Winchester, Dean Needs A Hug, Dean Winchester Loves The Impala, Dragons, Everyone Hates Metatron, F/F, Familiar Dean, Familiar Sam, I Don't Even Know, I think they do, Like I don't know where it came from but they worry, M/M, Meet-Cute, Metatron Being a Dick, Multi, Protective Siblings, Sam Needs A Hug, The Novaks Worry About Castiel, Use of Wiccan terms, Witch Castiel, fuck it, nerd references, references to pop culture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 19,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's one wish, with every year that passed, was to have a Familiar. Well into millennia, Castiel's about to give up on having someone as his equal. </p><p>Sam and Dean Winchester have been looking for a Witch to break their curse for over a hundred years. </p><p>They met a week before Ostara during the time of year when Magic calls to Magic in a most spectacular fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Castiel's Wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes a deep breath* 
> 
> I honestly don't know what to say about this fic? Like, I love the concept but maybe SPN just isn't my thing. I'm posting this because I worked forever on it and I'd hate to see it rot in my WIPs. Another Familiar fic in the pile here on AO3? 
> 
> Enjoy~ 
> 
>   _ **CAVEAT: A LOT OF TIME-SKIPS OCCUR.**_  
> 

* * *

**-Novak Land, Gaul, 442; Ostara-**

Castiel kneels in the earth, tracing out a sigil for his silent wish, same as last Ostara. 

Bright blue eyes close with the fervency of the wish, the words repeated in as many languages as Castiel could remember. 

"Again, Castiel?" Micheal chides as his Familiar, a beautiful owl named Analisse, coos at Castiel. "What are you asking for?" 

"I cannot say," Castiel frowns at the insistence that he spill this one secret. "It will not come true should I speak it." 

"Ah, a wish!" Lucifer teases him gently, the sleek snake that is his brother's Familiar butting Castiel's shoulder with her face. "I think I know what it is but I will keep it to myself." 

It is a rather _obvious_ wish, now that Castiel thinks about it, but he is still a child and his Familiar hasn't come yet.

* * *

**-Novak Castle, France, 1678; Ostara-**

This time Castiel has to be discreet about his wish, avoiding his servants and his brothers as he sneaks up to the tallest tower. 

Castiel looks up to the stars with his frustration more evident now than it had been so many centuries ago. Everyone in the Novak Wixen family save for himself has a Familiar now, even the youngest of the Novak Clan. Castiel is beginning to think he's broken; that no Familiar wants him at all. 

He tries nonetheless, his magic vibrating with the want of that connection, the profound bond between Familiar and Witch something Castiel longs for. 

The moon burns brightly but there is no sense that Magic herself has heard his plea. 

Castiel sighs heavily as he trudges back to his rooms in the castle, not noticing the concerned looks that pass between his brethren.

* * *

**-East Coast, New York, 1835-**

Castiel looses himself in the city, the growing magic here a distraction from his problem. He discreetly guides fledgling Wixen into their own power, making sure that their Familiar would come within the next five years at the very least, not wanting them to suffer the same fate as himself. 

He encounters a demon, though she appears far more intrigued in him than he is in her. 

"I'm Meg. You are quite the pretty Witch. Why don't you have one of those hulking protectors that every other of your kind has?" She purrs as Castiel draws a warding sigil in glowing white behind his back. He dodges her touch and trips her onto the devil's trap he's finished in the nick of time. "Touchy subject?" 

"I do not need one," Castiel quietly asserts as he summons the gallon jar of holy water to his side. "I can take on many challenges. Should I need assistance there are those who would gladly do so." 

"Avoiding my question, Witch." 

"Do I need to use this on you?" Castiel bluntly asks as he pours some of the holy water into a cup. "Will you vacate the person you are possessing if I answer?" 

"Oh, you are far too easy, Witch boy." She laughs derisively at Castiel. 

"Well?"

The demon sighs heavily and vacates the woman, leaving him to catch the still-breathing body as the smoke remains. 

"I do not have a Familiar because I was not granted one." Castiel coldly replies. "Now begone before I kill you." 

The demon clucks her tongue, "Poor, pretty Witch." The smoke disperses with a cruel laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	2. The Trouble with Winchesters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, congrats on being the handful that do.

* * *

**-American West, Kansas Territory, January 24, 1879; Dean's Birth-**

The Winchesters are a simple family. They love their small home, the fields of their land and now the green-eyed boy that Mary's given birth to a few hours previous. 

Dean Winchester is a sweet child, never crying too much or getting into excessive trouble. He plays with the other children only after his chores are done. When Mama explains that he'll have a little brother or sister, Dean's ecstatic. 

"Can I name him Mama?" Bright green eyes take in Mama's round tummy, like the barn kitty in the Spring. 

"What makes you think the little one inside is a boy?" Mama asks him. 

Dean shrugs, his fingers splaying against his new sibling. "Just know." 

"Well, I suppose I can chalk it up to sibling knowledge hmm?" Mama laughs as she fixes Dean's hair. "We will see if you are correct."

* * *

**-American West, Kansas Territory, May 2, 1883; Sam's Birth-**

Mama gives birth to a second boy, one Samuel Winchester, and she delights in the fact that Dean takes care of Samuel when she's too tired from the day's work. He milks the cows, mucks out the stalls and bounces Sam after his afternoon meal. 

Mama sings to them softly, Sam and Dean sharing a bed to keep Sam warm and Dean from sleeping in the master bedroom. 

Everything is peaceful... Until it isn't. 

Six months after Samuel is born, the house, Mama and their farm goes up in flames. 

Dean barely makes it out with Sam, Papa covered in soot and crying. None of them notice the bright gold gaze of a demon slipping away into the dark.

* * *

John Winchester is angry at the world for taking his wife. He hunts down every scrap of information on monsters he can get his hands on, killing them all in his hunt for what did that to his wife. 

Dean is left to raise Sam by himself. He learns that despite being gruff, a lot of farmers outside of towns pity Sammy and his state. Farmer's wives are especially sweet when Sam's fussing and they get food and a bath. 

By the time Sam's ten, he wants to go to school. So Dean works hard and buys Sam the books he needs; Dean practically fixes every school in the West trying to get lesson plans and lessons for his brother. 

He works his fingers to the bone getting Sammy books and catalogs to buy more books. 

Dean even bought Sam his own horse; Chevalier had taken to Sam something awful and had required purchase.

And then Papa dies hunting the same thing that killed Mama.

* * *

**-American West, South Dakota,1904; Pastor Jim's Church-**

Dean falls off his horse, grunting as Sam picks him up to sling him across Impala's withers. 

"Don't bleed out on me, Dean." Sam pleads as he leads Impala and Chevalier to the post. 

"'M fine, Sam." he slurs, blood dribbling down his temple to fall to the ground. "Really, you worry too much." 

"I'll believe that the second you stop bleeding Dean." Sam counters with a heavy breath as he lifts Dean up and into the church. "Pastor, it's us." 

"Again, Samuel?" Pastor James (preferring Jim) chides as he ushers them over the threshold. There's a devil's trap under the carpet and both Sam and Dean expect a shot of holy water any moment now. "Water?" 

"Of course." Dean throws it back in one gulp, wincing as the movement earns him blurred vision and a renewal of blood flowing down his face. "Not the best idea." 

"Indeed not," the pastor sighs as he pours whiskey onto a clean cloth and wipes Dean's wounds down. "Those are rather nasty. Vampire?" 

"Witch," Dean counters with a sharp hiss. "She started laughing at us the second we showed up to knock her off." 

"Did she give a reason?" 

"No, just had her ugly Familiar take a swipe at us and we pumped it full of daylight. She screeched something at us before Sam did her in." Dean rattles off before Sam puts a hand over his mouth. 

"My Latin's a bit rustier than I like but it was something about 'a curse upon our house.' Pop mentioned to us that we might already be cursed so what's one more?" Sam shrugs and tends to Dean's other wounds and his own, more shallow set. 

Famous last words, it turns out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	3. The Thing Witches Want Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to the handful who read this! *waves* New chapter updates will be fairly frequent until I run out of material. 
> 
> Feedback is welcome! 
> 
> Enjoy?

* * *

**-South Dakota, 1933; Pastor Jim's Church-**

Dean stands at Jim's grave and Sam's off reassuring the new leader that Pastor Jim was a good friend of theirs. 

They both realize rather quickly when they stop aging in 1906 that something isn't right. Pastor Jim sent out inquiries on how to break a curse but it never gets anywhere. Immortal, was what came back from the archdiocese when Pastor Jim sent the Latin there. Problem was that immortal and hunter didn't exactly mix well. 

Word eventually got out that Sam and Dean weren't monsters but just plain ol' cursed. The Winchesters were famous for clearing up a problem you had and vanishing without a trace. 

Dean and Sam survived The Great War; there was rumor of another one brewing. They were here just for an old and close friend's death, though most of the congregation knew the pastor had been helping these 'young' men out with some issues of God. 

Issues of God was putting it _lightly_. Dean huffs out a breath as he sits at the edge of the still damp grave. 

"Hey Jim," he talks to the stone, one hand on the ground. "You're in a better place." 

"He is," Sam trudges up in his boots and scruffy jeans. "I think I managed to translate it right." 

"Jim's notes." Dean guesses quietly as they stride towards their Model-T. "Something tells me we aren't gonna like what we see."

* * *

"'Strike o' midnight at the last bell, Shall two Heroes change, Knowledge of the creature they kill first as their hell, No ability to exchange, Know this and know well, This is my spell.'" Sam reads out with growing horror. "We... Oh no." 

"Her _**Familiar**_." Dean groans in dismay with his head in his hands. "No wonder we stopped aging. Familiars stay strong for their intended Witch. You killed her after you helped me with it, right?" 

"We did everything that should've nullified this curse... Although that does explain the white Wixen trying to be hospitable." Sam mutters as he rubs at the back of his neck. "We're Familiars. Witches need Familiars or demons for more power than they have naturally." 

"The thing Witches want most," Dean summarizes with a long exhale. "We have _got_ to break this spell, Sam."

"At least we kept a record of everything we've done. You do realize that if we don't find a Witch with enough power, we crumble to dust." Sam admits as he frowns at the translation. "Dean, why haven't we shifted into our animal forms yet?" 

"Never knew what it was or didn't know what we were, Sam. Guess we could try... One at a time though. I'm not gettin' stuck in some half-friggin form." Dean suggests as he stretches in his chair. "Heads or tails, Sam?" 

"Tails." 

It's tails, of course, and Sam goes first. The cat he turns into is enormous, huge feet and the bobbed tail matching Sam perfectly. Sam closes his cat eyes and there's another form, an owl, Dean thinks. 

"Hold that. We have to record this, right?" Sam the owl bobs his head so Dean marks that down; they can still understand human speech even as animals. 

He sketches out Sam with quick, sure strokes, pleased with the results. He motions that Sam turn back into the cat when Sam screeches and shifts **again** , this time as an elk. The surprised squeal that comes from Sam makes Dean crack up laughing. Elk Sam stamps his huge foot impatiently and huffs out a loud breath. Dean captures that form and the cat before Sam can shift back. 

"You try that! It's harder than it looks." Sam complains so they switch places, though Sam's impressed by Dean's sketching. "Concentrate on not being a human." 

Dean rolls his eyes but does just that, looking down to see a sleek feline form but different from Sam. He actually knows this one from his former jobs as a cowhand; mountain lion. Closing his eyes, Sam starts laughing at Dean. When he opens them again Dean makes a noise of indignation that comes out as a hiss.

Splaying out his rather large wings takes some effort as he's used to _arms_ and not wings. Dean looks at them with interest as he turns his head almost halfway around. 

"So you understand me too." 

Dean clicks his beak irritably before shifting for a final time. This one left him excited, a high whinny coming from his throat as he half-reared. 

"A buckskin mustang. You _had_ to be something different, didn't you Dean?" Sam laughs as Dean shifts back to tackle his brother into the red dust of the West.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	4. World War II Winchesters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, tiny following! Have some WWII Winchesters before I go to sleep. 
> 
> Enjoy.

* * *

**-World War II, France, 1943; Heavy Firefight-**

Dean finds out that being able to turn into an enormous cat can save the lives of his fellow troops, especially when he can sneak into the enemy camps and take information that they sorely need. 

It also comes in handy when he runs out of bullets—In the middle of a firefight. 

"Winchester, we have to fall back! It's a boner to stay!" Garth (Dean's battle-buddy) shouts over the sound of whistling mortars and explosions. 

"We have to hold!" Dean snarls back, "Wait 'til Sammy's unit gets here as reinforcement!"

"They're miles out. We really gotta go." 

"I'll handle it." Dean shoves Garth out and away, his human form melting away to an enormous mountain lion, the unholy yowl he lets loose causing the battle to pause briefly. 

He bounds forward and straight into the air, the soldiers too late to run from him landing on them. The slashes and bites are second-nature, weaving under gunfire to rip into the rich lifefont of the person attacking him. Dean feels Sam shift into his elk form, the powerful hooves doing a ton of damage to the terrified enemy soldiers. 

They stand in the aftermath, two animals that shouldn't be there by all rights with the enemy's blood on them and minor wounds. 

"Are those...?" Garth whispers reverently. 

"You get used to it after a while," comes the response from Pastor Jim's grandson. The kid should get a medal for dealing with them. "Sam, Dean, let me see to those wounds." Dean's in the middle of a lick with the tip of his tongue sticking out as he blinks at Rhys. "Or not." Once he's thoroughly cleaned himself, Dean starts on Sam with no concerns about body-space or how the rest of his unit will act. 

Sam rumbles threateningly as he shifts to the lynx form to clean himself; he doesn't appreciate how Dean's sandpaper tongue feels on elk hair, as they found out about five years ago. Dean chatters his teeth and Sam licks at Dean's forehead where he missed a swath of blood. 

They lick until their fur is sleek and shiny, shifting back to to check the other for wounds in a clearing not too far from the unit's much slower traveling. 

"Dean, we can't be careless," Sam chides even as he hugs Dean to him. Another side-effect of being a Familiar is that they are a _lot_ more affectionate than they normally would be. Contact feels good now, so much so that they're always close. 

"I know. I wouldn't have done it in front of the new guy if friggin' Supply hadn't shorted us a box of ammo." Dean sighs as he breathes in Sam's scent of pine, plains and that stupidly clear lake in the middle of the Rockies that Sam loved so much. He doesn't have the guts to ask Sam how he smells; he might if this curse continues much longer. 

"Yeah, us too. I think there's a Wixen in Supply." Sam grumbles as he inhales Dean's scent. "He already has a Familiar too." 

"That butt-ugly pug that takes up the desk behind him? Yeah. Bites too, if you get too close." 

"Dean." Sam shakes his head at Dean, looking him in the eyes and asks plainly. "What do we smell like after a battle?" 

"Uhh. Oh. Big cat and elk and big cat again. Should probably apologize." 

"Yes, Dean." They shift seamlessly back into their cat forms as they pick up the scent of the unit following them discreetly back to camp, secretly glad that most of thier units seem to take them with a grain of salt. 

"So they do understand us." Garth's grilling a semi-amused Rhys with a ton of questions. "They're not just dumb—AHHHH!" Garth jumps about a foot off of his seat as Dean chuffs with a cat grin after removing his breath from the back of Garth's neck. "Warn a guy, Winchester." Sam (who had shifted back about ten minutes ago) throws back his head and laughs. 

"Nah. More fun to scare the new fellas, huh Dean?" Dean shifts back to answer. 

"So much more fun to hear you screech." Dean chuckles as he stirs the soup in the pot, rescuing the pheasant he'd brought to stick in the thin soup. He plucks the feathers and cuts the bird so it roasts over the coals and can be added in without much fuss. The spices Sam tosses him go onto the pheasant with the other packet going into the liquid part. 

They'll eat well tonight and until they leave the heavily forested region. Dean and Sam will make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	5. Magic's Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hello, tiny handful! 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**-Chicago, Castiel's Apartment, 1950; Novak Family Meeting-**

Castiel reluctantly settles in the middle of a working circle, pouting at Gabriel and Lucifer when they make sure he stays inside. 

"Magic or not, the potential of being powerful or not, we need to understand why she hasn't given you what you need." Michael sighs as he Works with his Familiar to call on Magic. 

**_I see the Novak Clan cannot wait._** The amused voice is full of knowledge of the world and the way the shifting spirit embodies the stars hurts Castiel a little. **_Oh, my most devout one, you hurt so very much. They're out there now, your Familar. A dark Witch of some caliber spoke to me the other day. She said that she'd created Familiars with a curse. I would expect them sometime in the next half-century at the latest, Castiel._**

"Another half-century?" He speaks hoarsely, entirely out of turn for the spell. Magic only chuckles and cups his chin in her whispy hand. 

**_Yes. In the mean-time, Novak Clan, I have a job for you that should help you pass the time. Angels are gathering for a coming event. You must prevent as many Seals from falling as you can. Do not sacrifice yourselves but please, this event must not happen._ **

"Demons too?" Micheal presses cautiously, holding Analisse close to him. 

**_Demons too. Do be careful loves. Castiel, come._** She takes his hand and erases the lines of the spell with a flicker-flash of what she really was peaking through briefly. 

"I asked them not to bother you, Magic." Castiel admits once they're well out of his brother's range. "I know that you have your ways." 

**_Castiel, I know you._** She clicks her tongue as she strokes his brilliant blue core. **_I knew you the second you made that wish._**

"Then why the wait? I do not understand. Each of my brothers has had theirs for centuries and they found them in childhood. Why am I—" 

**_Broken? Is that what you think?_** Magic strokes back Castiel's wild hair with a soft sigh. **_Have you felt any increases lately?_**

"Yes but I do not see what that has to do with my... problem." Castiel replies as he manifests a bouquet for Magic. It keeps his hands occupied as she knows all of it already. 

**_What does each Witch, Wixen or Warlock receive when they gain a Familiar?_** She prompts Castiel as she coos over the flowers and herbs. Castiel knows not many of her charges think as to what Magic might like; they just take and do not give back what she has given to them. 

"More power," This he's known since childhood. 

**_And?_ **

"A boost in compassion for the world around them." 

**_You haven't noticed you now outstrip every brother but Micheal? That it took two of your brothers to hold you in the circle?_** Magic tells him and Castiel sits down on the frost-bitten grass of the tiny park, the frost coating the back of his slacks and making them wet. 

"They're older than me." 

**_True but age does not always equal more power. Castiel, you could change the world around you with your influence but all you want to do is cuddle with a Familiar and grow exquisite gardens dedicated to me. You've raised Witches and Wixen to a level that many of your kind never bother with save for some of your brothers._ **

Magic cards her wispy fingers through his hair, leaving glittering trails of magic that make Castiel feel lighter than he has in a long while. **_You deserve what you so desperately want, Castiel. You will have it soon. I apologize for making you wait so long._**

"I am not broken, as I have thought for many centuries. Will I know them?" Castiel blurts out before she fades entirely into the cosmos once more. 

**_Indeed you will,_** she murmurs, **_A car as dark as your hair and the engine to match your voice when your magic settles._**

"Thank you." Castiel breathes out into the cold night, hearing a chime-like laugh as Magic vanishes from his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	6. Close Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* More of the SPN cast to be introduced! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Canadian Border, Above North Dakota, 1978-**

Dean plays chase with a set of scientists who want to tag him for something. Sam's not far and he bats gently at his brother's nose when he skips out on the humans. 

"What is he doing, bothering another apex predator like that?" 

_Didn't give 'em the slip after all Sammy._

**Dean, you stick out more than I do. You ARE technically out of your homerange.** Sam chides as he rolls Dean over with a nudge. 

_Whatever._ Dean licks the snow off his shoulder and makes sure to stick out his tongue at Sam, rubbing his cheek against his brother affectionately. It's easier in this form to show Sam his love though he'd have to be shot to admit to it. 

"I think they strayed into each other's range or one of them was raised by the other species." 

Dean flicks his ear in their direction, allowing his body to tense as he makes a show of scenting the air. 

"We're too close." 

"I _told_ you," comes the reply as they leave the area. Dean shifts the second they're gone into his owl form, Sam following on the ground as Dean hunts for voles, mice and lemmings in the snow. 

Sam pauses in swallowing a mouse to lay flat against the snow. **Dean, moose. We'll eat for a while if we take down one of the bulls.**

 _Yeah. One on the far right, limping heavily._ Dean glides from tree to tree, tracking the bull when it flounders in the heavy snow and moans in pain. _Sam, it dropped. Get your butt over here._ Keen eyes detect the humans before they see Sam. _Shift to your bird, now._

**Yeah I smell them.** Sam shifts to the owl that is his flight form and lands on the branch a few feet from Dean. **We got lucky.**

_Luck has nothing to do with it Sam. Just plain ol' sharp eyes._

**Plus shock of the hunter's life when the pretty pelt he expected turns into a still alive human.** Sam snarks with a click of his beak. **At least you've got two forms that most people won't eat or kill on sight.**

 _Sorry Sam,_ Dean flares out his wings to shake them out. _No clue if you can change it to something... less attractive to guns._

 **Maybe if we were bound to a Witch.** Sam mutters as he half-way closes his eyes.

_You really..._

**I'm tired of turning down Wixen, Dean. They get pissy and grumpy when we tell them no but—**

_So you feel it too. When they're not it. I think we're feeling magic._ Dean hoots softly as he watches their moose get shot by an airplane hunt. _Maybe we can convince one of the more powerful ones to find the one we're looking for?_

**Where the hell would we start?**

_Rufus?_

**The one who tried to shoot us on sight?** Sam scoffs as they wing away from the disappointing hunt. 

_At least it was a shot to my leg and not my head._ Dean replies while they bank to find the cabin they're staying in. _Besides, why are you offended when it was **me** he shot?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	7. Bobby Singer's Introduction to the Winchesters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* Where are all of you coming from?!

**-Whitefish, Montana; 1978-**

Rufus is out so Sam and Dean wait in the trees and hunt for about a week before Rufus's car shows up. He half-drags, half-helps a guy in a trucker hat out of the backseat, setting him on the porch to grab a duffel bag full of hunting supplies. Dean flutters down onto the porch railing and waits for Rufus to turn around. 

"You?! I'm busy." 

Dean clicks his beak and hisses at the man while fluffing his feathers to preen them. "... Fine. You and that crazy brother of yours can help me unload." Well then, he supposes that's something he can do. 

"Thanks," The man on the porch, even as whacked out as he is, doesn't miss Dean's shift from bird to man. "You forgot to salt the back porch, by the way. Sammy and I fixed it." Dean jumps down off the railing and helps Rufus bring the man into the house. "Who's the newbie?" 

"Singer. His wife got possessed." Rufus clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "It's a shame." 

"Damn demons." He huffs out as he pours water into the coffee machine. "Ruining a perfectly good civvie and bringing him into our world." Singer snaps his head up at the 'our world' part. "What, you're gonna go back out there and pretend it didn't happen?" He pauses as the drip of the machine begins. "You're not gonna let it happen to anybody else if you can help." 

"How...?" 

"That's how our world grows. Bad shit happens to good people; they turn around and make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else." Sam agrees as he waltzes into the kitchen with their duffel bag and sets a bag down with Dean's favorite thing in this century. "I made sure to get an extra patty for you." 

"Thanks Sammy." 

"Don't call me that," Sam calls over his shoulder as he sets two bags in front of Rufus. "Johnny Walker in one and food in the other." 

"Listen, can you two take care of him?" Rufus motions to the hunting board and Dean shrugs to show he's paying attention. "Singer, these two are something of an anomaly in the hunting community. Winchesters and cursed with those faces for the past... How long now?" 

"Seventy-four years on the dot this year." Sam sighs as he digs into his chicken sandwich and a salad. "We figured out what we were in 1933 but it's nothing harmful." 

"We've been in it longer than any other hunter aside from Rufus here." Dean adds with a shrug after his bite of burger. 

"Don't it bother you?"

"It does. We can't stay too long in a town and no hanky-panky without a wrap. Don't know if a kid of ours would inherit our problem." He sets down his food at that, frowning at his plate like it wronged him. "'Night Rufus." 

Dean stands up and strides out the back door of the cabin, his body completely defying physics as he shifts to his cat form. He shakes himself and lopes into the woods to scratch up the length of a tree. Cocking his head to the side lets him hear the faint crackle of magic being practiced. 

A long, low stride brings him to a girl practicing light magic in the clearing. He chuffs with a shake of his head. 

"Oh you're a pretty thing. But you're not my Familiar," she nods carefully as she goes back to sketching in the dirt. "You're still waiting." 

Dean pads over to her and plops his head onto her thigh. 

"Doesn't mean you don't want attention though. I'm Charlie, Charlie Bradbury. New to this whole witch thing." Dean glances up. "Found Grandma's Grimoire in the attic. It was singing to me." Charlie gives some nice scratches, he finds, and sure does help narrow his search for a Wixen or Witch powerful enough to help him and Sam. 

Charlie helps a ton, narrowing it down to a specific place if not a year. 

It's when he notices a much more heavy crackle that he pulls away. Dean watches as Charlie's swept off her feet by an enormous golden eagle that is her Familiar, apparently named Dorothy who's been waiting almost as long as Dean has. 

_ You kept her safe until I could find her. Thank you. _

_Not a problem. Sweet kid. Not mine but was kind enough to help me narrow my search should I need it._ Dean replies with a soft purr. 

_She's a sweet one. I hope you get just as lucky as I am now._ Dorothy kee-yees. 

_Yeah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	8. Castiel finds an Apprentice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi! Wow, you lot are very awesome and refired the Muses~ 
> 
> So, Cas meets Charlie and gets to teach her things. Let me know if I'm writing Charlie wrong, okay? Feedback is loved! 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**-Novak Cottage, Outside of Grangeville, Idaho; 1978-**

Castiel feels a _tug_ on his magical senses as a well-crafted spell attempts to contact him. 

He turns to his scrying bowl and contacts them back after the feeling fades. "Yes?" 

"I... I think I found your Familiar. He's real pretty." The red-haired girl, so much like his long-lost sister Anaiel, chirrups as she hugs an eagle close. "Oh! I'm Charlie. This is Dorothy. I gave him a general vicinity you might be in but I couldn't pinpoint the year. I'm kinda new at all of this." 

"Thank you Charlie. That's rather advanced for someone who is just beginning. I'm currently in Idaho and I could use an apprentice Witch." Castiel offers. "That is, if you're up for moving. I do not want to disturb any routine you may have." 

"Nah. I'll hitch a ride to Idaho or..." Dorothy the eagle kee-yarrs and Charlie grins. "Or we'll just take Dorothy's car." 

"That sounds wonderful."

* * *

Charlie is brimming with untapped white magic, her bright grin only matched by the bond to her Familiar. 

"You said something about running across **_my_** Familiar?" Castiel asks after most of the small talk peters out. 

"He's beautiful. Mountain lion and just about the sweetest gentleman I've met. You'd swear he dropped out of the Wild West with the way he treated me and Dorothy here." Charlie gestures as she talks, a wide smile on her face. "Said he had a brother too and 'would I kindly try to seek out his Wixen too?' The weird thing was that they both lead to you." 

"Both?" 

"At least that's what the Rune overlays in Grandma's Grimoire say." Charlie shrugs as she laces her fingers with Dorothy's more scuffed ones. 

"Rune work? May I see the Grimoire?" 

Charlie looks at Dorothy, already leaning on her Familiar for expertise in areas she doesn't know. All excellent qualities in a white Wixen of her power. 

"You may," Dorothy nods, handing over the Grimoire. Castiel's hands glow as he flips through the well-loved and hand-crafted masterpiece that is the Bradbury Grimoire. 

"Was the display like—This?" Castiel draws in the air with concentrated wind in a complicated Runic casting. 

"Oh yeah, that is definitely what showed up." 

"Then you would be correct. Both are my Familiar," Castiel explains as he releases the casting. "I haven't had an Apprentice in some time. Would you be willing to live and work with me?" 

"I guess?" 

"If you aren't interested in practicing too much, I can direct you to an excellent teacher who will allow you to live as human a life as a Wixen can manage." Castiel offers and Charlie wrinkles her nose. 

"No. I like magic. It's nice and uncomplicated. If you wouldn't mind putting up with a million and one questions, then yeah, I'd love to." She counters easily. 

Castiel feels the beginnings of a new friendship as he leads the way out into the forest. "First is herb lore. We will move as fast as you want, when you want. Should there be a subject of Wixen you do not feel comfortable with, please let me know immediately. I do not want to force consent and this is an open contract between two Wixen. Should you wish to leave, you may do so at any time." 

"Cool." 

"May I take your hand?" Charlie makes to unlace her fingers from Dorothy's and Castiel shakes his head no. "Your free hand, Charlie. I will never separate you from your Familiar." 

"So what are we doing?" She asks and already Castiel knows he has made the right choice. 

"I will teach your how to identify plants by sight and smell first and then by magic, from there, we move to potions, tinctures and poultices..." 

"Oh! Like The Sword in the Stone?" Charlie grins. 

"I do not understand that reference."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	9. A Very Unmerry Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves at handful* Hi~ New chapter for you all. 
> 
> The time skips are getting much shorter. 
> 
> I was wondering if you would want a chapter from Sam's POV? 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Lawrence, Kansas; Wixen Bar on Manhattan St., 1979-**

Dean sits in low light and swirls the whiskey in his glass around and around. The Bonded Familiars and Wixen tend to give him a wide berth, seeing as how in 1955 he'd practically torn a Wixen to shreds for implying that he was broken for not finding his Witch yet. 

The only one who doesn't is Portia, a Doberman Familiar who says that her Witch is close to being born. 

"So what's today?" She asks as she slides in next to him, giving his shoulder a soft nudge with her own. 

"My hundredth birthday." Dean drawls out, knocking back his whiskey to stare at the relief in the glass. "No closer to finding a cure for my curse than I was seventy-five years ago." 

"A hundred, hmm? Then your Witch is either really late or you're waiting for them to be born." Portia reasons as she pours him another finger of dark whiskey. 

"Bradbury said something else," Dean mutters into his glass. 

"Bradbury? Anya's been dead for some years." Portia's nose wrinkles at the name of the former Grey Witch. 

"Nah. Her _granddaughter_. Bright as they come." Dean corrects with a faint grin. "Sweet kiddo and nothin' like Anya. She at least directed me to a place if not the year. Grangeville, Idaho. Sammy and I got a trip planned later this year." 

And all the years after, went unspoken. 

"A White Bradbury? Hasn't been one in ages." Benny drawls as he straddles a seat. The vampire's gotten Dean and Sam outta more scraps than he wants to count over the years and is a good friend. 

"Yet here she is, with an Eagle, no less." Dean points out as he thinks back to their time together, adding mournfully, "Gives some damn good scratches." 

"She work Runes?" Benny prods as he leans in on his elbows. 

"Oh yeah. Sammy was jealous we met. 'Dean, you asked her to do magic and you didn't let me know? I wanted to see a Runic circle in action'... I haven't heard the end of it." He says with a small grin tugging at his lips. "Thanks." 

"What for?" Benny questions. 

"Taking my mind off of the depressing shit I've gone through in a hundred years."

* * *

The low, swinging stride eats up ground as he travels, the dirt under his feet unchanged in a hundred years. Plains still shush with thick grass as he meets with Sam. 

The blackened ruin sits, as it has for most of a century, on land still owned by the Campbells. The Campbells were damn near insufferable in the Hunting community, gloating that they were related to the elusive Winchesters through their Mama. 

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the Winchester asked, it's getting harder to hide dead people. Dean still thinks he should at least scare them back into compliance but Sam protests it enough that Dean just grumbles when one of their hunting pals complains about the Campbells. 

They sit together and watch the sun set on the ruin, padding forward to pay their respects to Mama. Sam lays out white lilies to signify his sorrow as Dean places wolfsbane and wormwood to signify his regret. They lean on each other long into the dark before the moon rises. 

It's high in the sky when they leave together, shoulders brushing as a ghostly figure watches with a familiar smile pulling at her intangible lips. 

_Take care of each other, boys._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	10. Bees and Blessings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kasey for liking Magic's treatment of Castiel. I got two chapters out of that comment! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Rockport, Maine 1981; One Week from Samhain-**

Castiel's breath clouds the air as he takes in the Fall Festival currently in full swing.

Mage lights float with abandon since the town is Warded against all non-magical humans. Castiel uncurls his fingers from their chilly fist before blowing warm air across his palm to create his own lights, swirling as they are with bright blue, sepia and dusky gold. 

"Castiel, there you are!" Charlie bounces into his chest face-first before looking up with a grin. "I got cloud-mice and inky bobs and those tetarra that Dorothy—Oh!" 

Magic's galaxy-edged gaze is soft, her garments star-sparked and light as they move soundlessly against the dry leaves. 

**_Castiel._ **

"Lady Magic," Castiel sketches a half-bow, as she sees fit to address him so directly. "This is my Apprentice, Ms. Bradbury." 

**_The White Rune. It's been a moment since it sneaked from my Tarot deck._** Twinkling silver eyes crinkle at the corner, the brief flash of a white smile causing both Charlie and Castiel to relax. 

"... Sneaked?" Charlie asks as she offers a cloud-mouse to Magic. It's taken and nipped off the stick, leaving traces of brilliant pink and deep blue that wisp in the evening breeze. 

**_It likes the mortal Realm._** Magic delights in explaining to Charlie as she falls into step with them, her arm wrapped firmly around Castiel's waist. **_So much so that I had to lock my deck; and yet here it is, shining brightly from the sweetest Bradbury in a century._**

"Ooo. Do you mind?" Charlie murmurs as she glances at Magic from under her lashes. 

**_No, darling light, I do not. It heartens me greatly to see that my most favored has company._** She responds as Castiel offers her oak and ash, wrapped in sage and cinched tight with evervescent ivy. **_Again with the gifts, Castiel._**

"Equivalent exchange." Castiel deflects as Magic holds it close to her chest. 

**_You are a gift, Castiel, and one I am grateful for._** Her dusky blue lips curl into a soft smile as she presses a kiss to his temple and Charlie's. **_There are many who take of me and do not return. You fight the Seals, you remain righteous and yet still you give._**

"I—" He flushes as she dusts his cheeks with the edges of herself, Runes of joy and prosperity standing out against his skin. "Thank you." 

**_You're welcome._** She vanishes in a swirl of silver dust and rich gold-green hues that make him smile.

He finds himself not minding the wait for his Familiars quite so much.

* * *

The Novak booth sells out of almost every ware it has by the end of the week, even the more complex potions, poultices, tinctures and herb bundles going at a price that makes Castiel grateful for Charlie's boundless energy. 

The blessing from Magic herself draws even the older Wixen to the stall, their critical examination of his beeswax candles making him smile, the Runes lighting up as he rattles off their properties. 

"The bees were particularly happy in this batch," Castiel turns the bright yellow candle in his hands. "I got nearly twice the amount of honey I normally do. It comes with a candle. Did you want one?" 

"' _Produced by Novak and Apprentice_.'" The rough beard isn't familiar to Castiel and he tilts his head to the side as he taps at the other plane he can see thanks to Her blessing. "Reading my aura, boy?" 

"No," Castiel admits freely, "I'm looking for your core." 

"Would it have anything to do with those Runes on your face?" The rumble of the Wixen's voice didn't frighten Castiel. 

"Somewhat." There! This one is a Warlock, the magic nearly black but still flaring out a bright yellow core. "Please, take the candle." 

"What did you see, little blue, to Gift me things." The flat tone only serves to make Castiel dig deep into his stores. 

"Yellow. She likes you and your beloved," He hums lightly before pressing the candle, the largest jar of honey and a tincture for easing chronic pain into the work-roughened hands. "The bees do too, mind." 

"You do not fear me." Narrowed golden eyes look at Castiel again, as though in a new light. 

"Should I?" He asks lightly as he sets more candles up on the counter of the expandable stall. 

"I am Cain Knight, little blue." 

Ah. It would explain the line hanging back, well away from the famously ill-tempered Wizard. 

"I do not have time to fear you." Castiel pragmatically points out. "The yellow is your true nature and it is good. Just because someone does evil things for the sake of love does not mean they are evil." 

"... You are a strange Wixen, Novak." Cain harrumphs finally before leaving the stall.

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	11. How to Be A Heartbreaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's from Sam's POV! It's my first time writing from his view... It's a test chapter so let me know what you think, pretty please? 
> 
> If you can guess who the Witches are, you get a ficlet of this 'verse~ You get three guesses! 
> 
> Hint: They get in Dean and Sam's way in canon. They last for a while in SPN standards. Think outside the canon Witch box and any who know SPN witchcraft?

* * *

**-Rockport, Maine 1981; November 1-**

Sam and Dean are on a case in a nearby city when he catches **_the_** scent. 

It's cinnamon and cardamom mixed heavily with the smell of ginger and thick notes of spiced rum. He freezes in place, his hand darting out to catch Dean's shoulder. 

" _Dean_." 

"Sammy, you could literally not have chosen a worse time. I just hit on—What is that?" Dean's green eyes widen as he inhales it as well. "Holy shit." 

"Dude, I think that's _the_ Witch." He prods verbally. Dean knows what he means, especially since his jaw is working to keep from grinding his teeth. 

"No, no. Are you smelling cinnamon, cardamom, ginger and..." 

"Spiced rum?" Sam finishes as they duck into a small café near the waterfront that practically wavers into being. It's safe to talk here; these sorts of places mass appeal to magic of any kind. 

"That's not just _the_ Witch, Sam, that's **_our_** Witch." Dean hisses quietly. The one that they were made for; the one that would match them both in the best of ways. Sam just hopes that they also don't mind having two very large Familiars. "We **missed** them. It can't be more than a week old." 

"Excuse me, miss, did an event happen here?" He puts on what Dean likes to call his best _'I'm-a-large-puppy-please-help'_ face. It works, like, 90 percent of the time. 

"Of course. Our annual Fall Festival." The barista chirps enthusiastically. "Oh my gosh. Are you a Familiar?" 

Sam ducks his head shyly and scrubs at the back of his neck. "Yeah." 

"You're just in time for our holiday special." She says and lifts up the chalkboard with a lazy wave of her hand. "Go ahead and pick one." 

The gesture, without incantation, is... supposed to be impressive. Too bad for her that Sam and Dean have been wooed by Wixen that can summon _lightning_ without lifting a finger and she is _definitely_ trying to seduce Sam. 

He wonders briefly what it is about Dean that makes him seem just in the know and Sam so much more like a Familiar; something to file away for later introspection. 

Both Sam and Dean go for the Gingerbread special topped with cinnamon. Dean makes the other barista flush scarlet when he tries to lick the dot of whipped cream off his nose that Sam put there. 

"The prank war is **so** back on when I get this off my nose, bitch." 

"Bring it, jerk."

* * *

The salt-and-burn goes down pretty quickly. 

It's when the baristas (plural, and that would be flattering) keep trying to invite him 'home' that Sam balks with, "No thank you." 

"But you're alone." wheedles the first. 

"I have a Witch." He snaps back coolly. "They will not be as polite as I am." 

"You don't feel a pull to us?" The other grips at his forearm, his face full of avarice that doesn't suit it. 

"No." Something in him growls in satisfaction at their dual flinch. 

_If your sticky fingers don't get off my brother right this second, you won't have fingers._ Dean snarls as he glides out of the shadows in his cat form. Gleaming fangs glitter in the street lights, the muscles impressive even in the dimness. 

The Witch yelps and backs up into his friend; they hadn't counted on Dean. Then again, most plans unraveled when Dean got to them; it's a talent his older brother uses often and with glee. 

_I would back away 'cause our Witch likes throwing fire._

"Fire?!" Both bolt at an alarming pace, meaning they're plant-oriented Witches. 

"Dean," Sam kneels to brush his thumbs over Dean's whiskered cheeks, "thank you." 

Dean purrs, burying his face in Sam's chest. _'S what big brothers are for, Sammy._

He rolls his eyes but shifts to walk back to the motel, his long strides matched by Dean's as they cross the moonlit ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	12. The Roadhouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll with this fic! Hence the double-posting. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-The Roadhouse, Kansas; 1985-**

Dean strides into the Roadhouse, looking for someone in a familiar—Ah. He grins and weaves his way through the usual lunch crowd to the back booth. 

"How's the Chevelle treatin' you, Bobby?" He asks over the chatter of the bar. 

Bobby turns in his seat and rolls his eyes at Dean. "Better 'n you, bird brain." 

"Aww, Bobby, that hurt." Dean teases as he sits down, signaling the new waitress with a wave. "Sorry, Sammy and I got caught up in a vetala hunt. You know those bastards hunt in _pairs_?" 

"Now I do." Bobby huffs as Dean hands over a scan of the journal page. The damn thing's either made of studier material than Dean suspected or... All of their belongings they had on them when they were cursed suffer the same fate as Sam and Dean themselves. 

"Hey, handsome." Dean grins cheekily at her remark but she laughs. "I was talkin' to the other one, sugar." 

"Ellen, this is a huntin' pal of mine. Dean, Ellen's the owner." 

"The new one?" Dean blurts out with furrowed brows. 

"You tell him?" Ellen asks cryptically. 

"Not a word." 

"Sorry. I've been in before and the place was run by this old guy..?" Dean draws out the question, giving her a look of slight bafflement. He's learned over the years that mostly genuine questions are best asked with wide eyes and surprise. 

"Lewis. He gave the place to me." Ellen confirms as she shifts her weight to one of her hips. 

"Yeah? That's good." He takes a sip of the beer she set down and smiles around his mouthful. Sometimes it pays to be frozen at an age where you can drink and still look like a kid in need of mothering. 

"Ignore this one," Bobby scoffs as he makes cow-eyes at Ellen. "He's a rascal." 

"Hey!"

* * *

Dean hates running. Really, he does. 

So why the hell is he up at ass o'clock? 

He blames Sam. 

**-One Hour Ago-**

"Dean, it's a 24 hour gym. You can box at midnight and they won't care." Aaaand, there it was—the _'I'm-a-large-puppy-please-help'_ face. 

Better known as Bitchface #64; Dean-listen-to-me. 

"You gonna rope me into your health crap?" 

"I've been trying since 1953, Dean, and that was after our three stints in the military." Sam scoffs after he spits out his toothpaste in the motel's shitty sink. "Plus the private sector of security between hunting. No, no 'health crap' but I do want you to eat at least an hour before we start or after the workout's done." 

"So I don't get sick, yeah, yeah." Dean rolls his eyes but goes to put on some sweatpants. 

**-Treadmill-**

So, yeah, all Sam's fault; _especially_ for pulling #64. 

He steps off the treadmill, wraps his hands with care after he cools down from the run. 

Dean's punches rattle the bag chain as he strikes heavier than anyone else in the place. The successive thuds are something he can hear over his Walkman and fill him with satisfaction. He lays on it with haymakers, jabs and heavy sluggers, wiping the sweat from his eyes as he pulls back his hand for a final strike. 

Sam catches his elbow and Dean nearly cracks his neck trying to look at his brother. 

"Dean, you ripped the bag." Sam points out dryly in French. The sand trickles out of the split canvas bag. Oops. "I already paid the repair cost. C'mon." 

"Sorry Sammy." 

"I can't take you anywhere," His little brother complains and Dean reaches up to headlock Sam and give him a noogie. 

Sam, as any sane sibling would, retaliates. 

The blue streak Sam curses at him in three different languages is totally _worth it_ when they get banned from that gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	13. Novak Worry means Affection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi tiny following~ 
> 
> The guess for the Witches in Ch. 11 is still ongoing. 
> 
> Dig deep into those Seasons and find 'em for a future!fluff fic with this trio gifted to you! I gave three hints in Ch. 11 notes. 
> 
> Each user gets three guesses _and_ you can check the comments for everyone else's guesses. 
> 
> New chapter for you all. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Grangeville, Idaho; Novak Clan Reunion; 1987-**

Castiel looks at his sprawling family, Charlie tucking herself under his dominant casting arm with a happy sigh. 

"You went and got an Apprentice," Gabriel peers at Charlie with an introspective look before hugging them both. 

"More like he offered and I couldn't say no. Who says no to that face?" Charlie goes on her tip toes and plants a soft kiss on his chin. 

He opens his mouth to counter her statement when Analisse joins the hug. Castiel hums and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. "Hello, Lisse." 

"Michael says you have only two more decades." She says as delicately as she can as she came from a society where honesty was the best policy. 

The laughter that escapes Castiel has a good portion of his brothers and sisters looking up in shock. It only prompts more laughter, Charlie breaking into giggles right along with him. 

Yes, this year ought to be _fun_.

* * *

It's only after the children have grown tired of chasing mage lights that the elder Novaks gather together to speak of the changes occurring at a rapid pace. 

"It started with that infernal Revolution." Raphael mutters as she cradles her otter Familar close. 

"Which one?" Gabriel questions as he folds air into a slip of a bird and blows life into it. The bird twitters and pokes at Gadreel, Gabriel's Asiatic golden cat. Gadreel only rolls his eyes and pins the bird with a lazy paw. 

"Industrial, of course." Naomi counters before she catches sight of Dorothy preening Castiel's wild hair. "Your Familiar, Castiel?" 

"No." At least three in the circle wilt at the information; that they hold out hope still makes Castiel smile briefly. "She's my Apprentice's, though she has grown fond of me." 

"We heard that your Apprentice comes from Magic's Tarot." Metatron treads carefully, knowing as he does that his Dark Grey status does him no favors in the circle. 

"Yup! The White Rune, actually." Charlie replies as she jumps the barrier to settle in Castiel's lap. Dorothy's -ke-eer- is happy as she snuggles with her Witch. "She seemed happy that it slipped her deck again." 

"So do have you any clue, Castiel?" Lucifer asks as Abaddon winds around his arm to settle around Lucifer's throat. 

"Some. Charlie met one of them." 

"Wait a sec, you're saying that your Apprentice met your Familiar before you?" Gabriel yelps. 

The moment it kicks in that there are _two_ , most of the circle inhales sharply. 

"Two, little brother?" Michael asks quietly, cradling Analisse as he does when he gets worried. 

"Two." He confirms and they all exhale in relief. Castiel's confusion must read across his face. 

"We... We worry, Castiel, that you are so alone even with your bright Apprentice and her Familiar." Raphael says as she strokes a delicate finger down Uriel's back. "Two means that you will not be wanting for company and that they will always have your back." 

He swallows and swipes at his tears. The Novak Clan is large and numerous, yes, but his siblings worry about him so much even when they have their own lives to get on with. 

"You don't mind that I...?" 

"The power boost, Cassie? Please. You're already powerful enough to stick the majority of the Novak Clan into a bubble and take us down to the bottom of the ocean." Gabriel huffs out, nudging Castiel with his foot. "You're really not that scary. You could be, but, as Magic put it..." 

"All I want is to cuddle my Familiars and build gardens in Her name." He finishes with a watery smile. 

Charlie keeps quiet the fact that Metatron's fingers curled into shaking fists at the mention of Castiel's potential gains. She'll tell Castiel when they leave the Reunion. 

It does no good to let Metatron know that she knows of his jealousy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	14. Nobody Hurts Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this AU. It gives me so much room to wiggle in~ 
> 
> Time-skips are now three years apart. :) 
> 
> The ficlet contest with the Witches is still ongoing! 
> 
> Guesses so far: Don and Maggie Stark, Crowley and Rowena
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Cottonwood Heights, Utah; Vampire Case, 1990-**

Dean groans as he sits up. 

"I hate you." He says as he sees where he is; a prison with bars and a police officer on the other side. Sam's in the room with him, thankfully, sitting on the bench and blocking Dean's face from the camera. 

Dean hates cameras. The more technology there is, the harder it is to do their job. 

"I know." 

"Did we, y'know?" Dean's finger-spells out V-A-M-P-I-R-E and pauses before continuing N-E-S-T. 

"Yeah." Sam mutters at a low decibel, lower than humans can hear. "Got all of them and freed the hostages. Fuckers have Baby in the impound lot." 

Dean thanks all the little stars that Charlie Warded the trunk and glove compartment to Hell-and-back from regular humans. 

_What about our ID?_

**They're trying to find out if we're frauds. Good luck with that,** Sam scoffs. 

_No kidding. Ash stuck us into the Quantico database a while back and just keeps changing the names 'n years. Good kid, if a bit uppity._ Dean fakes a headache as he rolls over on the bottom bunk. 

**Uppity. God, Dean, you sound like that 80 year old at the retirement home we investigated back in '71.**

_Sam. I'm a hundred and eleven years old; I'm **allowed** to say that._ Dean then ruins the image by mentally poking his tongue out at Sam. 

"Agent Smith? Is, uh, Agent Wesson okay? You're clean. We're really sorry." The rookie sounds pitiful. 

"He'll be fine." Sam reassures. "The Impala, is it still in the impound lot?" 

"Yessir." 

"It's not too far, right?" 

"Out back, Agent Smith." 

"Watch this." Sam says in a conspiratorial tone. "Guess that means I have to drive her, you know, what with Agent Wesson having a—" 

Dean rolls off the bed in less than five seconds flat. "Over my dead body, Smith." 

Sam only grins at the rookie's gaping. "Fastest way to wake him up." 

"Superglue in your milk, _I swear to God_." Dean threatens Sam as they get out of the cell. 

"Would he really...?" 

"Ongoing prank war and yes, yes he would."

* * *

Dean hugs Baby's hood, sighing as his cheek meets sleek metal. 

"Hey Baby." He wipes off the grease he put on her hood, crouching to inspect her tires and checking her over for any signs of meddling. 

It's when he gets to the trunk that he growls low in his chest. There are indents on the side of her trunk and what look like pry bar marks on the latch. 

"Sam, I'm going to string the one who did this up by their shoes and drag them across the Salt Flats at high speeds." Dean remarks with a cheerful tone but his eyes promise **murder**. "Who did that?" He pins the rookie with a look that wouldn't have looked out of place on Pop. "You got exactly ten seconds to tell me before I charge everyone in this station with vandalism." 

"Det-Detective Ham-Hamish!" The rookie yelps before hiding behind wall 'o Sam. 

"Could you go _get_ him?" The saccharine tone makes Rookie bolt. Dean drags a hand down his face and groans. He checks out the rest of his car but only the trunk is damaged. "I hate every vamp from here to Lawrence." 

"So... everyone but Benny?" Sam surmises with a laugh. 

"Exactly." 

He sadly does not get to string up Det. Hamish or drive with him attached to Baby's undercarriage along the Salt Flats. 

Dean just... punches him hard enough to crack his eye socket and begrudingly calls it even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	15. The Roar of Thunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an outline for where the fic is going~ SPN has plenty of villains but I picked the baddest of the bad (excluding S 11 and no spoilers, I'm only on ep. 1 of S 11!) from across the Seasons. 
> 
> Also, apparently Cas and Dean were riding the same wave three years apart. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Raphael's Cottage; Whitefish, Montana; 1993: Anaiel's Return-**

Castiel gently spoon-feeds Anna, his eyes soft as she swallows his cooking without complaint; she did not do the same with Raphael's, Michael's or even Naomi's recipe. 

"Here, Anna." He hums as he blows air into an enchanted Rune twisted into the shape of a fox. It's Anna's favorite shape and she reaches for it mutely. 

Her core fluxes in response, brushing Castiel's enough to convey her gratitude. He accepts her affection and thanks with a nod and presses a kiss first to her third eye and then to each cheek. 

It's when the Warded door closes that Castiel slides down the door and sobs in relief. 

His sister is finally _home_.

* * *

**-One Week Prior; Outskirts of Kalispell, Montana-**

Castiel yawns as he drives through Montana to visit Raphael. Since she is one of the few Novak shapeshifters, able to change her form and gender, she has to move less often than the rest of them. 

People start to notice when Wixen don't age and now it's harder to move somewhere without eliminating all traces of photos in the town. 

It's a good thing that Charlie drove through most of the trip. The last stretch is always the most grueling; he's glad Dorothy demanded cuddles in the back seat with her Witch. 

A flash of red shimmers in his headlights and Castiel stomps on the brakes hard enough that they squeal unforgivingly. He hisses through his teeth to find Charlie and Dorothy blinking away sleep in the back. 

"Whas goin' on?" Charlie asks while yawning. 

"I just missed something." Castiel murmurs, now wide awake. "I'll go see if it's injured." 

He steps out into the nippy spring evening with a sigh, hoping that whatever he missed is alright. There's a quiet groan in the brush as Castiel shuffles across the gravel with a mage light glowing at shoulder level. He peers into it and inhales sharply at the sight before him. 

It's _**Anaiel**_ and she's flickering half-in, half-out of her fox shape. Lastra is nosing her gently and with care, his golden gaze full of worry. 

"Lastra?" Castiel croaks and the red fox bristles before he sees who it is. "Lastra, it's Castiel. I can help Anaiel." 

At that the fox collapses with little yips and yowls, looking for all the world like he's crying.

* * *

His sister had suffered from a core draining curse that sapped her almost to the last of her strength. Castiel's roar of fury shatters every window within a five mile radius of Raphael's cabin. Power was something he had in spades and he overloaded the drainage spell to the point of it breaking. 

Almost all of the circle from the Reunion six years ago appear on Raphael's doorstep the next day... All but Metatron. They'd felt Castiel's wash of power from their homes. He uses his power so rarely to that extent that even a spike would warrant attention. 

Anaiel sees all of them, hugs them and then promptly goes to sleep. Michael, Raphael and Naomi take to the kitchen, trying to get her to eat to regain her strength. The first bowl of oatmeal is thrown across the room; the grits and the thin broth also get the chop, flying into the face of the person who made them. 

Castiel quietly starts his meal, soft noodles dunked in a hearty beef stock that he feeds to Charlie when she's grumpy and frustrated with her Castings. 

**-Raphael's Cottage-**

He's sniffling when a cool, wet nose bumps his cheek. Lastra whines and Uriel crawls into his lap to lick away his sadness. 

Castiel gathers them in his arms and inhales the scent of camphor and soft lavender that comes from both Familiars. Charlie presses against his side as Dorothy preens his hair. 

Logically, he knows she'll get better but it takes time. 

Castiel decides that he'll kill Metatron when he gets his hands on the fully Dark Warlock. When—There is no doubt about _if_ he will. 

It won't be fast either. 

No, he has to feel every ounce of **agony** he caused to Anaiel _first_ before Castiel decides on any other punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	16. Instinct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi, tiny following! I wrote more of this and forgot to put it up. Oops. 
> 
> Brief mention of Sam/Dean in the making. If that squicks you, that's fine. 
> 
> You are welcome to stop reading because it only gets more overt from here. 
> 
> The Witch guess from Chapter 11 is still ongoing! No new guesses but I'll give you one last hint. 
> 
> Dean Smith and Sam Wesson get their ghost hunting tips from them. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Forest Outside of Rensselaer, Indiana; 1996-**

Sam lounges beside the Iroquois River with his front paws soaking in the cool water. Dean's sprawled next to him on his back, feet in the air and lazily batting at the butterflies that land on them. It's a break between cases, both of them glad for the reprieve as Bobby sends two competent Hunters in their place. 

A yellow butterfly lands on Dean's nose and his older brother huffs out a breath in a fruitless attempt to get rid of it. 

"Whoa, is that...?" 

"A lynx next to a cougar. I have officially seen it all." 

"Intact males too so what the hell—" 

"You remember that study of Canadian wildlife back in '78?" 

"That can't be them. They'd be dead by now." 

"Eighteen years doesn't mean they're dead." 

"Dude, these are _wild animals_ we're talking about. We'd be lucky if this was the great-grandchild litter." 

Dean sneezes the butterfly off, contemplates it briefly as he rolls onto his paws and then eats it. He brushes along Sam in a possessive display of marking. Sam chuffs but accepts the aggressive scenting with a mental chuckle. 

The urge to mount flares across their connection and Dean shies away from Sam. 

Where was it coming from? Dean rubs at his nose with a paw as Sam presses a wordless question down the connection. 

_I think it's mating season for cougars._

**Dean, it's spring.** Sam counters as he shakes off his paws before licking the right one first. **It's mating season for _everything._**

_I know that. What I meant was..._

Sam stops licking at the visual he receives. **_oh._**

 _Yeah._

He thinks about it, digs through his mental pile of fucks to give and doesn't find one. Oh well. 

Sam shrugs as best he can in this form while going back to cleaning himself. **Okay, and this bothers me why?**

 _Dude!_ Dean's golden eyes widen at Sam's dismissal of his worry. _I just basically told you..._

**You said it yourself, it is mating season. Does it look like there are any other cats around?**

_... No?_

**Didn't think so.** Sam chuffs as he rubs against Dean with his own scent and pats at his brother's pink nose with a fluffy paw. **C'mon.** Dean chases after him with a happy yowl, Sam purring softly in encouragement.

* * *

Dean refuses to shift into a cougar again when Sam's a lynx. Sam would be hurt if he didn't know his brother as well as he did. 

**Dean Michael Winchester, if you don't shift into a cougar right now, we're both dead!** Sam snarls as they battle a Wendingo. **Get your ass in gear!**

Sam's claws catch the Wendingo in the face while Dean's swat beheads it entirely, both of them snarling at the smoldering corpse. 

_Sammy... I..._

**Feel like mounting me now?** He asks dryly. 

_Sam!_ Dean's tone isn't mortified but isn't quite believing either. _Not really?_

Inhaling tells Sam that Dean's nervous but truthful. Then it clicks, Sam making a low rumble as he pads closer to snuffle at Dean's throat. **Then what do you want?**

The crackling ozone before a storm, the petrichor that lingers after rain and pine flood his senses as Sam deliberately breathes in his brother's scent. Dean follows his example and inhales Sam's with glee.

They'll definitely have to work this through with words but for now, Sam's content leaving it at just this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	17. Ornery Cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi tiny following~ The wait is over!
> 
> mynevermore guessed correctly with the Ghostfacers Harry and Ambyr. 
> 
> Those who guessed will be getting a dedication on the ficlet in this Familiar!verse. 
> 
> Don't worry, still plenty of fic left. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-New Orleans, Louisiana; Castiel's New Age Shoppe ;1999-**

Castiel hums as he sets up his Tarot reading table, flicking his fingers at the illustrated 16th century deck that he's used for millennia into the seven card spread. Next are the hoodoo and voodoo ingredients that Castiel keeps separate from the other magical necessities strictly so that they can be used for that purpose and that purpose alone. 

It's getting harder for Wixen, Witches, Witch Doctors and other practitioners to find or hold onto fresh or non-tainted aspects of their work. 

Castiel, as a Wixen of considerable power, is able to keep both a farm and a shop in the city wherever he stays. Magical beings and folk of all kinds are starting to come to him. 

Hunters too but—

Well, quality is quality, no matter who he sells to. 

A man in a red trucker hat strolls into the shop with a sure step and his assessing gaze of Castiel's wares is knowledgable. 

"Excuse me but do you have valerian and lavender?" The man asks with purpose. Castiel appreciates a forward customer. "Maybe some catnip. My cats need big pillows and I can't really rely on other places to stuff 'em. Rufus, uh, recommended your shop." 

Rufus Turner was one of the rather respectful Hunters who only went after morally Dark or Dark Grey Wixen with demon deals.

"Rufus Turner?" 

"Yeah. I'm Bobby, Bobby Singer." Castiel shakes his hand and notices the blade and gun callouses. 

"Hunting partners then?" He jabs lightly. 

"You could say that." Bobby doesn't even flinch. Castiel mentally flicks through his supplies and finds an excess of valerian, lavender _and_ a particular species of catnip native to the Blue Mountains of Georgia. "Well?" 

"I can fill your order and charm the pillows. I just want to exchange numbers and a promise to call me if your cats are satisfied with the pillows. Is this a fair price?" 

"That it?" Bobby's probably used to other Wixen extracting a higher price. 

"My Apprentice is fond of cats and so am I. Helping out a fellow cat-lover is a pleasure." Castiel admits with a small smile. 

"Alright." Bobby writes down his number and Castiel does the same, tying it to the large pillows full of valerian, lavender and catnip. He snaps his fingers and the pillows will retain their scent for several months after the cats begin to use them.

* * *

**-Two Weeks Later-**

He's rubbing at his temple, nursing an awful headache from arguing with a Warlock about ingredient use, when his phone lights up with Singer's number. 

"You wanted proof that they liked 'em, right?" Bobby asks without preamble. 

"Yes, I did." 

Castiel starts feeling better the instant he hears the insanely loud purrs. He laughs as he hears snuffling and more purring as apparently Bobby gives them scratches. 

"Whatever you put in, they _really_ like it. I don't think I'm gonna see those pillows again—Hey, no, you two got one pillow each. No stealin' each other's pillows." Bobby chides the cats as he probably puts the receiver back between the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

"I'm glad they like them. Bring them by for renewal seven months from now and I'll refill the order." Castiel says as he closes his eyes and listens to the motorboat purrs. 

"Sounds good. Sam, you better not be sneakin' a sausage from that plate you ornery little—!" The dial tone means that Bobby likely hung up to scoop Sam off the table.

* * *

Bobby returns with the pillows, each of them covered in unique cat hairs. 

"This one's Sam's." He sets down the one with the silver ticked fur, an indent directly down the center like Sam has used this like a perch. "This one's Dean's." The golden ticked fur has Castiel raising his eyebrow. 

"These are large cats." 

"Maine Coons. Come in every color under the sun and these two are litter mates." Bobby snorts as he holds out his grey shirt for Castiel to see both sets of fur on it. "Good thing is that all they like to do is cuddle and leave me plains pheasant." 

"Is that what's in the cooler?" Castiel notices that it's full to the brim. 

"Yup. I can't eat all of it and my other friends are getting sick of seeing it at the dinner table." Bobby rolls his eyes and leans into whisper to Castiel. "I have to keep them inside now thanks to thier hunting habits. " 

"Do you want them to stop hunting or just stop leaving their whole prey at your doorstep?" Castiel murmurs as he fixes the pillows. 

"I don't care if they eat it, I just want to stop steppin' outside and accidentally on top of it." Singer sighs heavily as Charlie wraps the pillows up, sneaking in a valerian mouse toy in each that could double as a cat pillow. 

"I can fix that. Charlie, charm the pillows so that they stop leaving their hunting? Word it as a suggestion, rather than a command." Castiel cocks his head to the side and smiles. "Did Sam get the sausage?" 

"He got _**two**_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	18. Dean vs. Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all~ 
> 
> New chapter cause I'm on a roll! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Watkins Glen, New York; 2001-**

Dean hisses at his burner phone when it rings, his face buried in the pillow Bobby inadvertently bought from their Witch. 

He admits, frankly, that Charlie's mouse is as well-chewed and well-used as the pillow. 

Sam grumbles but answers it with, "Agent Sabbath." 

"We have another kidnap victim." 

Dean mumbles something into his pillow after Sam hangs up that causes his brother to throw back his head and laugh.

* * *

They stare at the site and then look at each other, a conclusion they don't like forming as it stacks up. 

The scorched earth, the half a dozen virgin girls, the missing jewelry in town. 

Only one thing matches the classical description: 

Dragon. 

Dean and Sam haven't come across one in nearly a hundred years of Hunting. 

They'll have to pull on every contact they have in the Hunting world and it's _definitely_ time to call Charlie.

* * *

It takes three rings for Charlie to pick up. 

"Hello, Strider!" 

Dean rolls his eyes at the LOTR reference but smiles at her voice. "Hey Arwen." 

"Whatcha need?" 

"What do you know about dragons?" 

"Dean, you better _**not**_ be messing with me." Charlie threatens over the phone. 

"Wish I was. Haven't come across anything like this in my years Hunting," He sighs as he leans against the Impala. "So?" 

"My partner in crime might know or my Master Witch." Charlie hummed as she flipped through something on the other end. "I'll hit the books and my boss up for some knowledge so you're not flying blind, Dean. Stay safe." 

"I'll try, Charlie, I'll try." Dean hangs up and drags a hand down his face.

* * *

Dean roars as the dragons swat Sam into a sewer pillar. Cougars aren't meant to roar but Dean is and he's _furious_.

That's **_his_** Sam. 

He charges forward in three bounds, dodging the fire breathed at him as he rakes both paws full of claws down the dragon's surprised face. His jaws clamp around the throbbing pulse and he slowly crushes it with a muffled snarl at the other dragon trying to sneak away. Burning copper floods his mouth as he finally breaks the thick skin with his fangs, blood spraying in a wide arc as he releases the dying dragon. 

_Don't even think about moving!_ Dean yowls, the high-pitched and eerie call of his species freezing the other in place. He leaps high enough that his shoulder blades scrape the blackened sewer ceiling before he lands on top of his prey. 

"What in the name of Mother are you?!" The dragon yelps as it struggles to get away from Dean's relentless grip.

_Your worst nightmare. You hurt what is mine!_ The scrape of his talons against the dragon's skin sounds like steel on stone, sending sparks up into the dimly lit sewer. It gives him an uncomprehending look before he snarls, _The lynx, you stupid lizard!_

"Y-Yours?!" 

_I did not mis-speak, beast! I will exact my pound of flesh from your hide._

**No.** Sam's weak protest stops Dean from ripping the throat out of this one too. **The girls, tell us... where they are.**

"Any-Anything! They reside beneath us in cells. Please, Berserker, no more." 

**Berserker?**

"He killed my brother with ease and seeks to kill me also for the harm we-GURK!-brought to you, pretty lynx." Dean's warning snarl makes the scraped up dragon speak the truth. 

**Wait.** Sam limps up to them, leaning his cheek against Dean's heaving shoulder. **If we release you, will you take up a cause?**

"Name it." It whimpers under the pressure of Dean's spread claws. 

**Kill human monsters. I know you can smell them. There are plenty of those to eat. If you do, we grant you a life-debt that we may recall at any time. These are your terms. Do you accept?** Sam says with a shrewd tone. 

"That is all?" 

**Do not kill innocents or kidnap them. If you do, we will know and we will consider the debt void and null. Beserker wants you to break it, seeing as he'll have a legitimate excuse to kill you. Again, are we agreed?** His brother closes any loopholes it might think of with quick thinking. 

"Agreed." The response is hoarse after Dean lets it up. "I am Bar'a'dur. You may call upon this debt at anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	19. Scarborough Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You lot know how to make a writer happy! I know it's a small chapter but I love you all so much. Bookmarks are my favorite aside from comments, makes me smile when I get comments within the bookmarks. 
> 
> Enjoy~ 
> 
> It's also International Fairy Day so be magical today!

* * *

**-Date; Scarbororugh, Ireland; 2003-**

Castiel likes Inias. No, really, he does. It's just... Inias isn't his Familiar and it's getting uncomfortable. 

He may or may not turn Gabriel into a bunny at some point. 

"We could visit all of your old haunts and cuddle and—You're not listening, Mr. Novak, are you?" 

"My apologies, Inias." Castiel is actually trying, which makes this extra painful. "You said something about my old haunts." 

"I did. Be honest, Mr. Novak. Do you even feel the smallest spark?" 

"No. Mine is out there, waiting." 

"At least you tell the truth. Some Wixen want a Familar so bad they lie," Inias relaxes his shoulders and Castiel does the same. "So, now that we're not trying to play nice, what is your Familar?" 

"A mountain lion." Castiel says with a happy smile. "They can purr, did you know that?" 

"No. You know, just for the record, I think you'll make an excellent companion to any Familiar lucky enough to have you." Inias murmurs as they finish their meal by the waterfront. 

"Thank you."

* * *

He does turn Gabriel into a bunny. 

"Filigree apogee pedigree perigee!" Castiel fires at Gabriel before his older brother can even make a remark on the 'date' in question. Gadreel snorts but curls around his Wixen like a furry wall of defense, licking at the honey-colored fur of Castiel's brother easily because Castiel did it quite often. "Before you ask, yes, you did deserve it for setting me up on a date with someone not my Familiar." 

Gabriel's pink nose twitches in his irritation. 

"Magic said sometime in the next fifty years, not the precise date nor year. I know the place. I would _greatly appreciate it_ if you all stopped trying to find them." He sighs as he slumps into his squashy chair. Dorothy settles into his lap and shoves her great head under his hand as Lastra does the same from the floor. 

Ireland has been good to Anna, revitalizing her spirits and Lastra's. Anna scoops up Gabriel and pets his long, soft ears out of habit as she settles in her own chair. She's remained mute for a full decade, letting her magic spell out Runes which are easy to interpret. 

Castiel thinks that Anna believes the last ten years to be a dream and if she speaks, the illusion will be broken. He doesn't blame her for it and understands her need to cling to the idea that they really are there. 

The Rune this time is tinged in blue, for Castiel's attention. 

**_Them?_ **

"I have two Familiars." Castiel explains as he snaps his fingers and steeps her chamomile tea and his Lady Grey. Gabriel's sits in the cup but doesn't have water, seeing as he likes to steep it himself. He grimaces at the amount of sugar Gabriel doctors his tea with. "Charlie met one of them in 1978. We don't know what the other one is but they are related." 

**_Magic._ **

"Our older brothers couldn't leave my situation be and summoned Magic herself. She said that there would be two and that they would be in a car as dark as my hair and the engine to match my voice when I reach magical maturity, which I have." He says as he strokes Dorothy. "Dorothy, where's Charlie?" 

"Brewing a complex potion," Charlie answers as she comes upstairs from the lab with purple gunk in her hair and a strip of kelp across her nose. "for one Cain Knight. By the way, he's ordered at least thirty of our beeswax candles in bright yellow. Something about his wife appreciating them before he ended the mirror call." 

"Colette Knight is a very sweet Witch and his anchor. He loves her very much. His core told on him, you know, back in '89." Castiel replies without missing a beat, waving his hand and packaging the candles in question. "A premium painkiller, no doubt?" 

"Collected them all himself and sent them via Flutters. He does make a really cute Flutter." Charlie smiles widely at Anna and Anna smiles back, setting Gabriel down to demand a hug from his Apprentice. "I saved you one, you know." Charlie's eyes crinkle at the corners as she scoops Anna up into her lap and offers a well-crafted air Flutter. The Flutter's a merlin, the intelligent gaze landing on Anna. It nuzzles under her chin and stays, much to Anna's delight. 

**_Mine?_**

"I asked him for one, special-order. It's why he's only paying a quarter of what he normally would. All you have to do is mark it with your magic and it's—" 

"Thank you." Anna's raspy voice has Castiel inhaling and his lip trembling as tears threaten to fall. "Thank you so much." She holds out her arm and Castiel hugs both Charlie and Anna close as his tears fall. 

"Gods and goddesses above, I'm so happy, Anna." 

"I know." She says and then they're both swiping at tears and laughing all in the same breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	20. Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* You are all amazing and patient so... 
> 
> The meeting you've all been waiting for! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Week Prior to Ostara; Grangeville, Idaho; 2005-**

The Impala roars into the peaceful town and parks in front of the town's diner. She gleams in the weak sun, all sleek curves and hard edges as two men get out of the classic car. 

Dean runs an affectionate glove over Baby's steaming hood and tugs his scarf up to his nose to hide it from the nippy wind. 

Sam shivers because his human form can't handle the cold as well as his lynx form but they're here to seek out the scent of cinnamon, cardamom, ginger and heavy notes of spiced rum. It's heavy in the town, traces of it weeks or months old but this one... His head snaps up at the bloom of warmth that accompanies the scent of **_home_**.

The door to the diner opens and Sam bumps into someone on their way out as his foot slides on a patch of thin ice that cracks under his weight. 

"Sorry, it's a bit—Oh." Magic crackles to life with an astonishing heft to it, bright blue locking onto hazel as his Witch, _their_ Witch holds up his coltish frame with ease. Sam breaks out into a grin and pushes at the pulse of magic with his own small bit. The man sucks in a breath before he also smiles. "I'm, umm, hi." 

"Hello." 

"Close the door, Cassie, if you're gonna let all the cold in—" The golden-haired Witch—a very powerful one—barks at the still open door letting in the nippy air. 

'Cassie' pulls Sam inside and then goes back out for a very confused Dean. "Castiel? Is it...?" 

"We need the apartment upstairs, Gabriel." 

"Here." Gabriel practically flings the keys at Castiel, whiskey eyes roving over the three of them. "Shoo." 

Castiel leads them up the stairs, opens the door without the keys and locks it with the same gesture once they're inside. 

Sam inhales the comforting scent and Dean does the same, not quite getting it until his green eyes widen and he looks between Sam and Castiel with a disbelieving grin on his face. 

"You're our Witch?" Dean blurts, flushing red after the words escape because he's trembling the way Sam is; they both want to hold onto Castiel and never let go. They've stopped fighting what they are a long time ago. The curse, it seems, is permanent anyway. 

"I am Castiel Novak. You are?" 

Sam and Dean know their mouths are hanging open, thanks, but that's a huge deal in the Wixen world. 

" _The_ Castiel Novak? The-The one that levels fair prices and makes valerian pillows and beeswax candles and still sells to Hunters even though... Oh." Sam blurts out and regrettably keeps going because **apparently** his filter has fucked off to who knows where. "I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean." 

"The immortal Winchesters are my Familiars." Castiel's eyes roll back and Sam catches him, carrying him over to the decent couch and burying his face into the source of the scent, Castiel's neck. Dean purrs softly and they settle him between them, both of them shaking from literally bumping into their Witch after all this time. 

_**Holy shit.** _

* * *

Castiel wakes up and immediately falls into a fighting stance with power flaring blue at his fingertips. Sam cocks his head to the side and waits while the events of the last ten minutes catch up to their Witch. He exhales a shuddering breath and goes back to sitting on the couch with them. 

"I'm sorry I fainted." Castiel says. Sam relaxes as Castiel takes their hands, one after the other, running his thumbs over their hands with ease. 

"Hell, _one_ of us was; just glad it was you." Dean quips dryly with a soft look. "Sammy caught you and carried you over here. Can I call you Cas? Cause Castiel's kinda a mouthful and sounds like you're about to smite us in ten seconds flat." 

Cas, because that fits him so much better, only laughs and agrees with a nod. 

"Umm, we used to be looking for someone to break the curse on us but..." 

"Let me see." Castiel caresses Dean's face and then Sam's, reluctantly untangling their fingers to flick a Runic casting in front of them. Oh. It's simple but beautiful and Sam's glad it's the first he sees. "Hmm." 

"What? What's it say?" Sam asks as he looks over the glowing blue Runes. He's good at reading them, Sam will admit, but some things are beyond him. 

"It's not a curse." Cas replies as he turns his fingers a little and the Runes separate, one for Sam and one for Dean. "It's a blessing, or at least it was before the Warlock got to it." 

"Witch. Dark Witch." Dean corrects absently. 

"She twisted it. The basic inlay is rudimentary blessing work but somewhere between execution and emblazonment, she went wrong and likely on purpose." Castiel explains as he squints at Sam's display. "Yours contains a fragment of a demon's will and I cannot rid you of it without some serious help from my brothers and sisters." 

"Demon's will." Sam knows his voice strains and creaks. "And exactly how _long_ have I had it?" 

"One hundred and twenty one years and six months," He says and Sam blanches. 

"Yellow-eyes." Sam and Dean murmur in unison. 

"I don't understand." 

"Yellow eyes was what killed Mama and Pop. We never figured out what it was or why it targeted us." Sam replies with a grimace. "It vanished after it killed Pop on a Hunt in 1900 and we haven't seen or heard of it since. Combed every Hunter archive from here to the coasts and back. Nothing ever came up." 

"We'll mirror call my family, see if they haven't heard anything," 

"We?" Sam questions. 

"I've waited more than a hundred years to see you two." Castiel's voice cracks. "If it's within my very powerful range to do, I will do it." 

"How long, Cas?" Dean asks gently as he clasps Castiel's hands in his, green eyes soft and sincere. 

" _Millennia._ " 

"We're not going anywhere at all today." Sam decides as he tucks Castiel against his side. 

"... How do you feel about kisses?" Dean slyly inquires as he slides into Castiel's personal space and Sam's within the next breath. 

"I like them well enough." 

"Cas, can we kiss you?" Sam asks as he curls around their Witch with his bulk. 

"Of course." The way he says it, as though there were any other answer, has Sam smiling again. 

Dean and Sam spend several minutes kissing Cas and kneading at his hips like the cats they are. 

Sam decides to mark _this_ down as the best day of his life in his mental calendar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	21. Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi tiny following~ 
> 
> So, by now you're probably wondering where the Big Bads are! Don't worry, they're definitely there, being evil, doing bad things... Just out of our hero's sight. 
> 
> I've been busy looking for internships and I'm busy with a few things but the floof ficlet is coming soon. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Week Prior to Ostara; Grangeville, Idaho, Gabriel's Apartment-**

Dean and Sam are sweet and very attentive, though they keep their hands on his hips and nowhere else. Castiel's magic curls around his Familiars and soundproofs the room before sliding back into his core as easily as breathing. He enjoys the affection, freely given and much wanted, humming as Sam and Dean purr against his neck. 

Sam snuffles and his purr only gets louder and—Castiel laughs before he can help himself, knowing the source of Bobby's 'cats' now. 

"What?" Dean mumbles as he blinks up at Castiel, the third eyelid of a cat sliding back to reveal a vibrant green that he loves already. 

"You two have some of my valerian pillows, don't you?" He asks and Sam hums. 

"One each plus mice. Haven't slept without 'em since the day we got them from Bobby." 

"Mine's in the backseat of Baby," Dean admits with a shrug. 

"Your... car?" 

"Yeah. We've had her since I bought her off this drunkard who almost wrecked her. Only time I didn't drive her was when Sammy and I were off fighting in 'Nam. Fun place when the residents aren't actively trying to kill you." Dean says with a wide smile and an expansive gesture that leaves his hand back on Castiel's hip. "Here I am, yammering on about Baby when _you're_ here." 

"I... I don't mind. Most of my family's Familiars tend to stay in their animal forms and hide under glamours if they aren't a common animal. I think Lastra was the last one I saw in human form sometime in 1820 in Philadelphia." Castiel replies as he strokes Dean's cheek and turns to give the exact same affection to Sam. He'll try not to fall into the habit of giving one all the attention. 

He hears Dean make a satisfied noise and looks over his shoulder to see Dean pouting. 

"He wants to cuddle you too, he just doesn't know how to say it." Sam clarifies. 

"I do... Okay, maybe I don't." Dean murmurs into Castiel's shoulder, his chest rumbling against Castiel's now very warm back. Sam presses against his front and they rub cheeks over his head, followed by a soft kiss to Dean's temple and one grazing Sam's lips. He feels Dean swallow sharply and start to pull back. 

Sam's grip on Dean's shoulder prevents him from doing so. "Alright, I'll say it. Dean and I, we... We are the only thing that stays the same in an ever-changing, ever-shrinking world. I encouraged it and–" Castiel presses a finger to Sam's mouth briefly as he mulls it over. "Cas?" 

"You took comfort on each other rather than a Wixen, Witch, another Familar, a Warlock or a Fae being, is that what I'm understanding?" He summarizes. 

Dean sighs heavily but answers, "Yes." 

"How recently?" 

"In '96." Sam's hazel gaze sweeps over his face anxiously, as if waiting for Castiel to get angry. "We can stop." 

"Don't shatter an existing relationship if you _think_ it will make me happy. Besides, what sort of hypocrite would I be if my own brothers were in a similar relationship?" Castiel huffs, lacing his fingers with Dean and Sam's trembling hands. "Lucifer and Michael have been together since just before the Renaissance. Who am I to judge, hmm?" 

"Guess we got the cool one, huh Sammy?" Dean relaxes, practically on top of Castiel and Sam as he does so. 

"Yeah, I guess we did."

* * *

Gabriel finds them hopelessly entangled in each other when he gets off shift from the downstairs diner. They own it but it's nice to interact with people, usually magical folk but some talent wanders in that isn't strictly magical but fits in nonetheless. 

Dean and Sam automatically look up, a growl rumbling low in Dean's chest. Sam pushes Castiel behind his broad back and tenses as he inhales Gabriel and Gadreel's combined scent. 

Gabriel stays still until the Winchesters are done. He doesn't, however, keep back his sarcastic nature. "Can I go get my tea now?" 

"Gabriel," Castiel chides as he gets up from the couch. Sam and Dean look like they want to follow but stay put, green and hazel eyes tracking his movement instead. "Dean, Sam, this is my brother Gabriel Novak. He has one Familiar, Gadreel, and specializes in tracking and holding spells. Gabe, these two are my Familiars, Sam and Dean Winchester." 

Whiskey eyes widen at the news but his older brother only shakes his head. "Of _course_ they would be. You two like tea?" 

"Yes," Sam says cautiously. 

"It's alright. You got coffee?" Dean counters with a wrinkle of his nose. 

"I need coffee after that," Castiel decides out loud and watches as both Sam and Dean twitch when he moves further away from them into the kitchenette with the bar counter. "It's on the tallest shelf and the filters are too. Could you get them for me?" 

"Yeah." Sam opens the cabinet that Castiel points out, grabbing the coffee can and giving it to him with a soft expression. Dean ducks around his brother and Gabriel to hand over the filters. "Cups?" 

"Second shelf on the right." Gabriel directs absently as he puts water in the bright green kettle Castiel gave him for his birthday. 

Dean scoots out of the kitchen and settles to watch him measure out the coffee by hand. Sam sets down cups, joining Dean in watching Castiel do mundane tasks. The tension, small as it was, dissipates with the tasks. 

He hums a soft song that Dean absently echoes, making Sam laugh. 

Yes, it's going to be an **interesting** journey as they learn one another but entirely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	22. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi tiny following! 
> 
> You are all awesome so... New chapter~ 
> 
> See, the bad guys are busy being BAD! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Lawrence, Kansas; Winchester Household; November 2, 1883-**

A shadow slides into the room of one Dean and Sam Winchester. Dean curls tighter around his baby brother, making a noise of protest as Sammy's rolled onto his back and given a single, blood-soaked finger to suck on. 

Sam snuffles and then screams at the strange thing, waking Dean as both of them start crying at a pitch that makes the yellow-eyed shadow roar. Mary Campbell fires the double-barrel shotgun that belongs to her husband's family name. 

It tosses her against a wall, trying to take her smaller son before she fires the gun again, splattering part of it on the walls before it slams her against the ceiling, burning everything it touches. 

It limps away from the now engulfed building, its yellow gaze following a somber little Dean soothing a squalling Sam.

* * *

**-Witch Death; 1904-**

Sam Winchester disappears the moment Baraska curses him and his over-protective brother. 

Baraska wheezes as Azazel inhabits the bloody form of her deceased Familiar. 

"You had a deal but I think I'll hand you to Alistair." She pleads soundlessly as he continues cruelly. "Let me tell you about the Hunters you just cursed. They're critical for starting the End of Days and _you just let them slip through my fingers thanks to your imbicilic Witchery!_ " 

The fury in which he throws her soul down to Hell leaves a permanent stain upon that particular spot of desert, eventually forming a crossroads on its own.

* * *

**-Cliffs of Dover; 1935; Dover Castle-**

Azazel takes in the dumpy little figure standing at the battlements, wrapped up in a greatcoat that makes him look even worse. _This_ is the great and terrible Metatron? Sickly yellow narrows as he glides from the shadows, clearing his throat to catch the—Warped magic pins him to the archery jut and his lips split into a bloody grin. 

"You must be the Great Warlock Metatron." He rasps out before slipping the magic hold. "Ah-ah, mustn't injure your ally, little soul." Azazel laughs as he dodges muted lightning bolts and sharp iron spikes. 

"What use do I have for a demon?" 

Azazel clucks the tongue of the mortal he's wearing, healing the bruises to shut up the screaming soul. "Just because you have a hellhound for a Familiar doesn't make you immune to us. Besides, it's Demon with a capital. I'm Father's Second in Command." 

"I asked for a real Demon, not some third-rate—GURK!—crossroads-" Azazel's grip tightens until Metatron turns bright red. 

"Crossroads demons are how you even know about Us. Lilith nor I have no time for blackened souls so tread _**carefully**_ , Magic-blessed." Azazel murmurs as he leaves Metatron dangling from the edge with his smoke. "I am not asking for your help; you will give it. The Apocolypse will start when we find a Righteous Man and his Marked brother." 

"Apocolypse? Why do I care?" Blue eyes flick from the smoke to the vessel and back. 

He replies casually, "We can help you drain Magic's favored." 

Greed lights up the Warlock's expression, not that there's much to begin with, as he says, "What do you need?" 

"Everything," Azazel drawls while slipping back into the shadows, "but your soul. That's already _ours_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	23. Kitty Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi tiny handful~ 
> 
> Decided to update~ This'll be a long fic, probably one of my longer ones, so you might get weekly updates! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

**-Castiel's Cottage, Master Bedroom; Outside of Grangeville, Idaho; 2005-**

Sam snarls as pain shoots through his skull, immediately shifting to try and dull the pain. Lynx claws scrabble against honeyed floorboards as Sam pants heavily enough to wake Dean. 

_Sammy! Here._ Dean curls close and takes some of the pain onto himself, hissing in his cougar form as they lay face-to-face on the nice cool floor. The pain spikes again to almost unbearable levels before it leaves him alone, draining and an altogether painful wake-up call. 

"Sam? Dean?" 

Sam moans softly, his head lolling against the floor as he purrs heavily. He knows it's not as bad as it could be because he can do this. 

"They started in January," Dean admits as he pets Sam's cheek ruffs. "Headaches so bad they're migraine-level shit. We have no idea what's causing it. Gods above, they're hard enough bearing part of it from the outside. I can't even imagine how Sam handles it." 

**They suck... so bad.** Sam agrees weakly. **Tried...**

"We've tried practically every painkiller known to man but..." 

Cas catches on and leans down to stroke the bridge of Sam's nose, bringing almost instant relief. Sam rolls over onto his back as he purrs louder and happier. "A Familar's Witch can banish most pain with a touch. Compatibility with the small amount of Magic Familiars carry around usually clues pairs or trios to the situation." 

**Scent; our clue was scent. We caught it in Rockport, years ago, but we had a salt-and-burn to finish.** Sam rolls over and pads up to the bed, not surprised when the bed materializes small stairs that don't take much effort to climb. **Had a run-in with a pair of plant-Wixen.**

"The Fall Festival. When?" Cas pets Sam until he feels like a boneless pile of lynx, purring out of joy. 

**Couldn't have been more than a week?** He verifies with Dean. His brother nods absently as he turns back into a cougar and grooms away Sam's sour pain-scent. **We lost it on what we assumed were the Fair grounds.**

"Magic." Cas sighs but continues to scratch behind Sam's tufted ears. 

_If it helps, a demon was trailing it too. Attacked Sam, so..._

**Dean keeps killing things. Things, that by all rights, shouldn't be killed by a Familiar with only a little bit of Magic.** Sam huffs as Dean scrapes his tongue over over his ear. He flicks it but continues, **The Dragon we drew a life debt from called him a Berserker.**

"A Dragon? Is it still alive?" Cas sounds surprised. 

**As of 2001, yeah. We haven't called on the debt or its name but... the way it refered to Dean threw me.** Sam offers. **Do you know anything about it?**

"Berserker Familiars are fairly common in the world of Magic. They protect; it's what triggers their status." Castiel's answer makes Sam poke teasingly at his brother. 

**Dean's been doing that since before I could remember.**

_Like I'd ever do anything else._ Dean snarks as he nuzzles Sam's shoulder into the proper shape for a pillow.

* * *

Sam pads downstairs and bumps into someone, looking up to see an unfamiliar redhead who trembles as she reaches out for him. When her fingertips brush his tufted ears, he licks at his nose but patiently waits for her to pet him. She grips his ruff gently and lets him lead her to the smell of food. 

Castiel smiles at Sam and then brightens at the redhead. "Sam, this is my sister, Anna. Her Familiar is Lastra, a red fox. Anna, this is one of my two Familiars. Sam and Dean Winchester will be staying with us." 

"Oh." Anna looks down and Sam looks up, glimmer blue locking onto soft hazel. "You're just right for Castiel." 

**I am?**

"We worry," she confides as Cas fixes breakfast. "a lot about our younger brother, Gabriel and I. Your arrival means that we can breathe a little easier." 

**We'll take good care of him.** He promises quietly as Dean thumps downstairs in his human form. 

"Morning Sam." Dean scrubs at his face and absently leans down to kiss Sam on his nose. Sam stretches up on his hind paws to return it and the unconcious snarl that he lets loose is, for the moment, completely justified. 

He herds Anna into the kitchen, turns off the stove with his small magic and backs Dean's defensive stance with a silver knife by baring his teeth. 

**Who are you?**

"My name is Raphael, stranger, and I could be asking the same of _you_." Golden magic glows at the end of her well-manicured fingertips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	24. Wooing Done Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves again* 
> 
> I've been covered in dirt but I managed to bang out a chapter or two inbetween replanting. Also, this is clearing up how Raphael managed to get in and a vague lay-out of Casa de Castiel. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

Castiel jerks away from breakfast at the snarl, the sound loud in the open-floor plan of his cottage. Raphael's just come through the door, her kinky hair already beginning to poke out of the bun she keeps it in thanks to the snow. Her hands are glowing gold and then Castiel groans. 

With the chaos of finding his Familiars and getting to know them a little, he's forgotten about asking his older sister over for company this morning. 

Dean glances back and asks, "Cas, you know her?" 

"She's my older sister. Raphael, these two are my Familiars, Dean and Sam Winchester. She specializes in shapeshifting and sound magics." He explains as he places a hand on Dean's shoulder and another on Sam's head. "I invited her over before I met you two yesterday. She's the closest of my siblings location-wise aside from Gabriel. The Novak Clan is very large and we're scattered almost everywhere on the globe. Relax, please?" 

Raphael chuckles as she releases her battle stance and snaps into clean lounge clothes instead of her usual pantsuit. 

Dean's shoulders roll back and he tucks away the knife with ease, like he's done it a thousand times before. Sam chuffs, nuzzling against Castiel's leg before shifting back to smile sheepishly at him. 

"Sorry Cas. It's... We're Hunters. Logically, we know there's a difference between Wixen but when it comes to you—" Sam tries to explain, hazel eyes searching him over almost unconsciously. 

"Logic flies out the window." Dean finishes with a ducking of his own head as he grips the edge of Castiel's t-shirt. "It's a little terrifying, frankly, and I think it's our Familiar side kicking in." 

Castiel only caresses their cheeks and directs Sam's hesitant hand to his hip. "We haven't Bonded nor have we set boundaries on who is allowed within our space. It's understandable, if a tad embarrassing for all of us." 

"Castiel, you mean to tell Anna and I that you found them _yesterday_?" Raphael asks as she directs the coffee machine to start up again and turns the stove back on. "Gabriel mentioned something about it in his mirror call last night but I thought he was playing me for a fool again." 

"He does that," Castiel agrees, flicking his fingers to cook the rest of breakfast. Dean leans down and rubs his cheek against Castiel's scruffy one and Sam presses a kiss to his hair. "Where is Uriel? Lastra?" 

"Outside." Anna murmurs, her blue eyes glazing over as she communes with Lastra. "They're playing in the snow." 

Charlie yawns and ambles into the kitchen, her face mushing against the solid marble counter as she makes a grabbing gesture with her hand. Dorothy only shakes her head and places a full coffee cup into his Apprentice's wiggling fingers. "Love you, doll." 

The eagle chuckles as she settles next to her Witch and coaxes her into finishing the cup. "I know." 

"Nerd reference, yay." Charlie mumbles into her cup.

* * *

After breakfast, Castiel checks the meat locker and frowns at the diminished stores. 

"Dean, Sam?" he calls back into the cottage. 

Dean pokes his head into the large freezer, golden brow lifting at the small stock of Dorothy's kills. "Lemme guess, not enough meat and one too many houseguests. Sam and I could go get some more for you. Question is, supermarket or au naturel?" 

Castiel wrinkles his nose at the mention of supermarket meat. 

"Natural it is, Cas," Sam reassures as he elbows Dean with a roll of his eyes. "We'll bring back some mountain fare." 

"Actually, there are a few early blooms I need to collect. I was hoping to join you." Castiel hopes that his meaning gets through. 

Dean only grins and tosses over his shoulder, "Thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Though it's closer to April than March, Castiel's surprised to see some fields full of biscuitroot and curly leaf sea kale, pale yellow and white drawing down mountain prey. 

Dean and Sam gabole like kittens in some of the more snow-dusted plains, Dean's yowl and Sam's strangely dog-like noises making him laugh as he cuts the blooms with an athame and tucks them away in his wide basket. There are no other humans up this far but Castiel keeps a perimeter just in case. 

Dean suddenly jumps upward, Sam quick to follow at the clattering of some shale. Castiel's heart is in his throat at the sheer cliffs his Familiars have gotten into while looking for prey. The bleat of a ram is followed by Dean's harsher yowl as he kills it with a throat bite. Sam joins him not a moment later, a seven-pointed buck locked in his jaws. They drag their kills down carefully before laying them at Castiel's booted feet. 

Each prey item is large with no hint of sickness or injury and Castiel smiles in delight. They're trying to impress him; not knowing that just by being there, they're doing more than enough. 

He kneels and presses kisses to the tops of their heads, Dean first and then Sam before reversing the order and laughing as they tumble him over in the soft swish of plains grass. 

_You like?_

"I do. Both of them are good quality meat. Would you know how to-" 

**Process them? We do.** Sam murmurs as he purrs, not rubbing his blood-soaked face against Castiel's. Dean is also hanging back, snuffling at the grass around Castiel without touching him. 

"Sam, Dean, blood washes off. Come here, please?" Castiel says softly. They squeak to each other before nuzzling against Castiel, their tongues washing broad strokes of diluted blood across his cheeks and chin. Sam starts on his hair and snorts when he encounters the beeswax that styles Castiel's hair. 

**Is that...?**

"Beeswax, yes. I prefer natural scrubs and products so I make most of them myself." He explains as Sam sticks to grooming his skin rather than his hair. 

_No wonder you smell like a bakery all the time then._ Dean remarks before his ears swivel forward and he growls. _Cas, no one else knows we're here, right?_

"Well, I told Charlie." 

_Bar'a'dur's touching down._

"The Dragon?" Castiel asks with wide eyes. 

**I, uh, invoked its name. Figured we'd make a check on its progress...** Sam sheepishly informs them as he noses Castiel into a sitting position. 

_And let Cas meet a live Dragon._ Dean sounds impressed by his brother and fond all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	25. Dragon's Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's the reason BBnCS went up in rating but it's heavy petting at best, fade to black kinky at worst. 
> 
> I tossed the idea of posting this back and forth so much that I figured, ah what the hell, might as well. 
> 
> Err, enjoy?

* * *

Dean watches as Bar'a'dur lands and transforms into a managable size. 

"I have done as you asked, Berserker's Mate. Who is the stranger?" The Dragon rumbles even in its human form, agate gaze searching and wary. 

_Our Witch._ Dean counters as Cas leans on his shoulder. _So don't try anything._

"Is your boon due to him?" Bar'a'dur asks shrewdly. 

**No.** Sam shakes his head and leans on Cas's other side. **Have you taken an innocent since our last time?**

"No." Truth rings in the statement, making Dean sigh mentally in relief. "Much to your Berserker's disappointment." 

Dean yawns, displaying his fangs but not making a move to so much as bum-rush the Dragon in their midst. _Not necessarily. You haven't hurt innocents since our fracas years ago. I can smell it on you._

"Your binding did not make it easy to even touch innocents, let alone eat them. The lynx closed every possible loop hole and I was to stick to my honorable word. Mother made sure that we could not break that." 

_Mother?_

"That you do not know of your heritage saddens me, little Familiars. Mother is Eve, though you spoiled our ploy to remove her from her imprisonment. I have learned that humans do not need our kind to harangue them; there are plenty of human monsters." Bar'a'dur murmurs in concernation, its brows furrowing. "So much so that I have convinced some of my siblings to hunt them. Their fear is greater than any innocent's and thicker on the tongue. I mean to thank you, both of you." 

_You're... welcome. I think._ Dean offers out of pure confusion. _Can we ask a favor of you?_

"Any boon I may grant is yours. A Dragon can do much." Bar'a'dur eagerly answers. 

**Our Witch is long of time and had not yet met nor spoken with a Dragon. Would you grant that to him?** Sam asks because Bar'a'dur favors him more. 

"That I will do gladly. Tell me your name, Witch, that I may spread word of your Familiars and their kindness." 

"Castiel Novak." Cas replies and Bar'a'dur's expression changes again. 

"House Novak I know of, though your Name resonates in the hidden world far deeper than you know. There are forces, some Mother's and some not, that seek you, call you Magic's favored. They also seek a Marked one... One tainted with a demon's will and blood. He travels with a Righteous Man and they wish great harm on all three."  
The Dragon looks unsettled as it relays this information, shaking its head. 

"I thank you, Bar'a'dur, for your honesty." Their Witch sighs, eyes slightly glowing in the weak light of the day. "I know who and perhaps why it is so but it unsettles me nonetheless. My attacker is my third cousin, the Warlock Metatron." 

Metatron, Metatron, why did that name ring a—Oh no. 

_We know him. Know of him, at any rate._

**He was our Supply Sargeant in WWII, had a little pug that snarled at us almost daily and shorted us a box of ammo every damn time we saw him.** Sam agrees with a half-hearted grumble of his own. **Dumpy little-**

"Man with curly hair and an attitude that made the hairs on the back of your neck stick straight up? Yes, that's him." Castiel, and it's Castiel the Master Witch now, sneers. "He is not unsettled nor unsound of mind. He is evil, plain and simple."

* * *

The mood lingers before Cas starts asking Bar'a'dur questions about his lair and then they're off, reminiscing about this battle or that throughout history. Dean and Sam sit not too far off from them in contemplation themselves. 

**Dean?**

_hmm._

**That's us. The Marked, Magic's favored and the Righteous Man.** When Sam says it, Dean's fur bristles and his teeth bare in a silent snarl. **You know I'm right.**

_Dammit Sammy, I know!_ Dean snaps, turning in the next moment and apologizes by licking under Sam's chin. _I... What's it even mean, the Righteous Man? We've already been through a hundred years worth of shit, what's a decade or so more?_

**God knows how many close calls we've had, Dean. I'm tired. I don't want to do something big.**

_Me either, Sam, but it looks like we're being volunteered; to hell with our say so, apparently._ He quips sourly as he inhales his brother's scent. Sam rolls over and slips back into his human form, hazel eyes soft as he invites Dean with a 'come hither' stare. 

Dean leans down to nose at Sam's scent-soaked neck before stealing a glance up. Cas is watching, the glow bright in his gaze and the Dragon gone. He shifts too and gives his own sly smile, the one that has women tripping and men stumbling over their feet. 

"Dean," Sam tugs him down for a drugging kiss with both of them slick and soft after all of the tension. He pulls away to trail kisses down Sam's throat, his nips only spurring Sam into gasping out ragged curses against Dean's own skin. "You smooth fucker." 

"Mmm, been known to on occassion." He whispers into Sam's hickied collarbone before Sam laughs. "What?" 

"Cheesiest line I've ever heard you say, Dean." Sam clarifies before tumbling Dean onto his back and perching on his hips. "Mmm, Cas is watching. Thought you gave him the 'all clear'," Sam rucks up Dean's shirt with his broad hands, leaning over to suckle Dean briefly. "Want me to say it?" His brother's eyes are dark, only a thin ring of hazel left as Sam leaves Dean panting and hot. 

"Ask him like that, Sammy, and he'll come undone just from your voice." Dean rasps out as Cas meanders over with an appreciative look at them both. 

"I might." Cas's voice, already pretty deep, turns into the thrum of the Impala's engine when he's turned on. "Depends on what you ask me." 

Dean suddenly finds himself at the center of very much wanted attention from two sides. 

Mmm, count him as one _lucky_ sonofagun...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	26. Fuck Societal Conventions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I recently re-discovered that Barbie made a 'game developer' doll that looks a hell of a lot like Charlie and I said to myself, ooo, Charlie! And thus the chapter was born. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

Sam watches over Dean, the protector of the protector, if even for a short time. It's rare that Dean ever lays lax, sprawling in the embrace of Castiel and Sam with the sort of abandon he's lost over the years. Dean hums tunelessly in the back of his throat which lilts into an old Western song they sang at the turn of the century. 

"Dean," One eye cracks open at Cas's statement. 

"Hmm?" 

"Did you intend to initiate our Bond?" 

Dean sits up, flannel loose around his bare shoulders as he looks at Cas with wide green eyes. The t-shirt's in tatters and Sam purrs internally at that fact "Shit, you're serious?" 

"No." 

Dean splutters and throws a handful of grass at Cas in retaliation. "You-You _ass-butt!_ " His brother always says that Sam has the killer puppy eyes but doesn't know that when he looks at people, Dean's is just as compelling. 

"Dean?" Cas sounds worried. 

"'S a good one. No hard feelings, Cas." Dean clicks his tongue, leaning down to kiss Cas's cheek. "Does this mean our prank wars are over 'cause you don't take sides?" 

"Prank... wars?" 

"You know, superglue in the milk, shaving cream instead of toothpaste... Stupid stuff." Sam explains. 

"Hair dye in the shampoo?" Cas asks with a wrinkle of his nose. "Gabriel is fond of such things but I do not mind, so long as they are not pulled on me." 

"Oh okay." Dean goes back to humming, frowns and pauses. That's the connecting face, the one where he figures out the monster they're hunting. "Will we feel it, when we Bond?" 

"We all will; it's a pleasurable feedback loop that lasts for a few hours and is best done on a bed, not a field in the middle of Idaho." Castiel huffs with a small smile. "Bonding is something that must be agreed upon and usually doesn't involve bodily intimacy but the laws have relaxed somewhat from my day." 

"So... Safe, sane and consensual?" Sam offers and Castiel only shakes his head with a fond smile. 

"I do understand _that_ particular reference and essentially, yes."

* * *

Charlie smirks as Dean shuffles the brittle grass from his hair with the absent attention of one who's done it too many times. 

"Have a good time?" Dorothy teases, her hazel eyes crinkling as the corners as she smiles. 

"Met our friend the Dragon," Dean nudges Dorothy as he passes, I-got-laid grin firmly in place. "Made myself a sandwich." 

Sam barely manages not to spray his mouthful of water. **Dean!**

_What?_ Dean's wide, guileless eyes didn't fool Sam one bit and Castiel hadn't fared much better with his coffee. 

She looks between them and it clicks into place, Charlie letting out a low whistle of what sounds like... appreciation. He blinks in confusion. "Hey, just 'cause I don't have a thing for the angle of the dangle doesn't mean the visual isn't hot as fuck." 

"It's a good thing Raph took Anna out for some girl time or that'd be real awkward." Dorothy quips dryly. 

Sam face-palms but makes sure Cas isn't choking on coffee as Dean notices his lack of an undershirt. 

"Sam, did you **_shred my shirt_**? Again?!" 

"Again? There something you two wanna share?" Charlie asks as she wraps her cardigan sleeved hand around her mug. Dean swallows sharply, his hands flexing as he debates internally if running's worth it. It isn't: Charlie's one of the best tracking Witches in decades. "No, you won't get far." 

"Nothin' to share." Dean answers woodenly, looking anywhere but their best friend of the last thirty years. "Nothin' that makes this... easier. It's-" Dean's skin ripples and shudders for a brief twist between feathers, fur and skin as he huffs out a sharp breath. "You know about Cas's brothers." 

"Which ones?" She sets down her mug at Dean's tone. 

"Michael and..." Dean starts out and the dots connect. Charlie's mouth forms the word 'Oh' before she hugs Dean. "You're not, y'know, weirded out?" 

"Dude, Magic is literally a living being and you think I'm gonna get hung up on societal conventions?" Charlie counters with a pout. "I'm a lesbian. Anything else while we're at it?" 

"It's recent." Dean blushes and Charlie hums. "'96." 

"Oh. You mean by Witchy standards." Charlie leans up and presses a kiss to Dean's cheek. "It's safe with us." 

"Thanks." 

"That's what family's for, Dean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


End file.
